Starseed
by blackenedsoul
Summary: Harry has finally realized his destiny. He will do anything to prove himself, but will a life of abuse, neglect and mental illness stand in the way? Can James help him? Contains self-injury and violence. Complete!
1. Unlucky Stuntman

Ok, I know you may think I'm crazy, as you may think I have three fics going at one time. NO. I have put Crimson Tears on hiatus and probably wont finish it. Sorry to all who were actually reading it. This fic will be better than that, and will have little more angst and violence. Yum.  
  
Anyhoo, I wont blab on for hours on end, as I usually do. I was writing Shoot the Moon and I just couldn't make it suicide, as I knew the people who read it wouldn't go for it. So, here it is, to lighten my day, and hopefully yours.  
  
Disclaimer: Lyrics of Starseed belong to Our Lady Peace. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I, therefore, own nothing.  
Starseed  
  
I Let Go of the World That was Holding a Passenger That Could Not Fly  
  
Harry felt the coldness of the window touch his temple as he leaned against it. He watched the heavy rain beat down upon Privet Drive from the window of the smallest bedroom of number four. His brilliant green eyes, followed the raindrops as they hit the window with a small sound and carved their way to the bottom on the glass, joining with some on the way. Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the small patter the rain made against the window glass. He sighed. It was a beautiful day to him. There was no sun. It had been hidden by the storm clouds even before he had woken up. He had opened his eyes to a small flash of lightening in the small valley behind rows of houses.  
  
He opened his eyes again. He couldn't see the small collection of colours in each drop of rain. He couldn't see where each streak of water on the window started and finished. His uncle, had thought it best to dispose of his glasses the minute Harry got home. After giving Harry a good punch in the stomach, his glasses managed to fly off of his face, and fight in front of Vernon. Harry wouldn't bend down to retrieve them. He couldn't expose his back to Vernon, who would certainly punch him in the back hard, as he often did. After the odd good one, it left Harry immobile for days, which pushed Vernon to the edge of his anger.  
  
Vernon had always been like this. As long as Harry could remember anyways. He would always return from work with a purple face full of rage, his eyes dark with anger, and just at his temple, Vernon's vein would throb with every quick pace of his heart. Grunnings wasn't doing well, and now either were the Dursleys financially. People were constantly phoning the house, harassing them for the money they were due. Vernon would not allow anyone to pick up the phone, and didn't even notice when it was disconnected, due to unpaid bills.  
  
Vernon took all his anger and frustration out on Harry. Harry hadn't expected ithisi. He didn't think it would ever get this bad. Before, when he was little, as far back as he could remember, the beatings were small. He wouldn't be punched or kicked, only slapped or thrown around. They would lock him in the garage as a child when they had important guests over and couldn't risk the cupboard. Harry hated all those long nights in the garage. It was so cold. The garage was never heated, and he was sometimes left out for long winter nights, when the cold air would make his flesh raw. He would have to sit on boxes, or sometimes just the ground. The ground would always be colder than the air, and it stuck to his skin, freezing it until it was red and burning.  
  
The Dursley household was different than it used to be. No longer did Petunia Dursley give her homely, horse like smile to her son as he waddled off to school. No longer did she bustle around the house humming an annoying tune from a local country music station.  
  
Petunia Dursley spent her time in her room. She lay in bed for most of the day. When the doctors came, they didn't know what was wrong with her at first, then found out she was manic depressive. She would be severely depressed most of the time, and she would just stare straight ahead, not even recognising anyone anymore. She wasn't Petunia Dursley anymore. Vernon had done this to her. She had seen what her husband did to her nephew. She hated the boy, she hated him with a passion, but no child deserved what Harry got. When she protested that he should tone it down, the anger turned on her.  
  
Harry hadn't expected one morning for his aunt to come limping down the stairs, one arm hung limply at her side, and one eye swollen shut. She could only manage a few more days before she snapped. Dudley hadn't been the same since his mother snapped. He blamed Harry, but stayed far away from Vernon, even though he and his father were normally on excellent terms, he had seen what this man could do.  
  
This summer however, it had been especially bad. Vernon would threaten him with bigger stuff now, knives, metal bats. They were real threats. Not what they used to be. Not just to get him to do his chores. Vernon thought of chores as only a little thing nowadays. Often he hurt Harry enough that Harry couldn't do the chores, which left the house in disarray.  
  
Harry sighed as he saw a familiar car pull up into the driveway. Vernon was home. Harry watched with fright coursing through his veins as the large, beefy man pulled himself out of his car with some difficulty. His eyes widened as Vernon slammed the car door hard. Harry was surprised the glass didn't break. Vernon usually, although less noticeable, had the same waddle as his son when he normally walked, his weight would shift from foot to foot temporarily, jostling his rolls. Harry noted that today however, Vernon had a quick angry pace. Although he was a very large man, he was surprisingly fast. Harry's ears pricked up at the sound of the front door opening, then loud thumping footsteps in the foyer. Harry's heart pace quickened as he knew Vernon was angry. Really angry.  
  
Suddenly, before Harry even knew Vernon was up the stairs, his door burst open. He didn't say a word, just stood in the doorway breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. Harry's breath hitched in his throat. Vernon suddenly launched himself at Harry and grabbed him by the neck.  
  
"You know what they're doing now boy?" He said in a fake calm voice. Harry couldn't speak, just shook his head.  
  
"They're laying me off! There's no need for my services anymore! But you know what they actually meant?" Again Harry shook his head.  
  
"They don't want people working for them who have abnormalities in their family!" Vernon said, eyes bulging. Suddenly, the grip on Harry's neck became tighter. Harry gasped. There was no more air. He struggled, grabbing Vernon's wrists as tight as he could. He started struggling harder as the need for air became stronger. Harry began to dig his nails into Vernon's beefy hands. Harry could tell he was drawing blood. Vernon let out a strangled gurgle at this and kicked Harry in the leg. Harry closed his eyes. Harry could tell he wasn't going to last any longer. Harry didn't want to die this way. Harry started to kick Vernon as hard as he could, and eventually got him in the testicles, causing the grip to drop, and Vernon to yelp. Vernon fell to the floor, clutching himself, as Harry gasped for air.  
  
"iOh no.. he's going to kill me..i" Harry thought frantically. Harry stood, a little dizzy and began to run from the room. Harry grabbed the doorframe, but felt hands grab his ankles. Harry yelped, as that was his sprained one, another fruit of Vernon's anger.  
  
"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE BOY!" Vernon bellowed, pulled Harry back to him. Harry couldn't hold on anymore, as pain was shooting up his leg. Vernon pinned Harry beneath him and punched him hard right above the eye. Harry felt blood rushing toward the destination of each punch and kick. One hard kick to the upper ribs, felt like it lit his chest on fire. Harry gasped again, but that felt as if it was just bringing a lemon to his wounds.  
  
Harry's eyes shot open in pain as Vernon's foot pressed into Harry's chest, pinning him to the ground again. Harry heard something snap as Vernon pushed his foot down upon Harry as hard as he could. Harry's left shoulder was against the wall, and banged painfully every time another kick came.  
  
"I GIVE YOU FOOD! (Harry would have snorted at this) A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD! AND I LET OYU GO TO THAT SCHOOL! HOW DO YOU REPAY ME? YOU MAKE ME LOOSE MY JOB! YOU'LL NEVER GO BACK TO THAT SCHOOL!" Vernon yelled exiting the room. Harry lay on the floor, blood seeping from his mouth, soaking his clothes. Harry coughed painfully, but it only caused a bigger flow of blood. Harry could barely breathe.  
  
'Thank Merlin he's done.'  
  
Harry sighed, thinking it was over, but the door soon banged open revealing Vernon with something long, black.. The rifle.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
"Ron! Get down here!" Hermione bellowed at the redhead who was suspended in mid air, hovering on his broomstick. He stopped trying to hit Fred over the head with a beater bat, and touched down.  
  
"What? I am not doing my homework now! I'll do it when Harry comes over," Ron said in exasperation.  
  
"That's what I need to talk to you about!"  
  
"I'm in no mood to discuss homework Hermione."  
  
"No! Harry you prat!" Hermione said, causing Ron to stop walking away from her.  
  
"What about Harry?" Ron asked, facing her completely.  
  
"I just got Hedwig back.."  
  
"Yes.."  
  
"Ron stop interrupting me! Hedwig didn't deliver the letter!" Hermione said in a worried tone.  
  
"Well, she is getting rather old.." Ron started.  
  
"Your owls are older and they still deliver all their letters! Ron I really think something is wrong!" Hermione said, voice cracking. She was worried and frustrated. Ron would never listen to reason.  
  
"Maybe.." Ron started but couldn't think of anything to say that would reassure Hermione.  
  
"Ron we HAVE to get him!"  
  
"Mum wouldn't like that very much.. Besides! Dumbledore said we could get him tomorrow.."  
  
"But-"  
  
"He'll be fine, don't worry."  
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Harry wasn't expecting it all to happen that fast. He just saw Vernon in the doorway with the rifle, and then a loud bang. His stomach seemed to explode with pain so intense it felt like something was eating it's way through him. He collapsed on the ground after trying to grab onto the walls failed. He slid down the whitewashed walls, creating a dark red smudge from the liquid pumping out of his stomach.  
  
Harry lay there, holding his stomach, cradling the wound and felt the hot fluid seep onto his arms and hands. They became sticky. Harry felt a hand grab him by the hair and drag him from the room. Harry struggled, but the pain overtook him, causing him to go into semi-consciousness. He was vaguely aware of Vernon throwing him into the master bedroom closet and barricading the door with his work desk. Harry heard lots of screaming and yelling, but couldn't tell where it was coming from. Everything was cloudy. Misty. Black.  
Hope you liked the first chapter. This is sort of short for a reason; I wanted to end it there.  
*TITLE OF THIS STORY IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE* 


	2. Bad Astronaut

I'm back. Thank you for the reviews! I just went out, and I came back and I had all these reviews, all positive too! Bless you all (LOL).  
  
TheSilverLady: Yes, I shot the sheriff.. Er I mean Harry. Actually Vernon did.. I'm confusing myself. Sorry. Muhahaha. Don't worry, I don't intend to kill Harry.. Yet.  
  
Istalksiriusonweekends: Thank you! I'm afraid I can't email people when I update, as I am extremely busy (lazy) and just don't have the time. I will update regularly though.  
  
Kyotyred: Scary? Sure.. Whatever floats your boat.  
  
Potterfan: Abuse just fits in the Dursley household to me. I don't think JK would write that Vernon short Harry, or that Petunia was manic depressive, but it should have abuse in it.  
On with the story!  
  
Starseed: In Search of Souls  
Hermione grasped her quill so hard it was in danger of snapping. Something was wrong. Whether Ron was going to do something about it or not didn't matter to her anymore. She flattened a piece of parchment with her sweaty palms, pinning it to the table. Her hand was trembling, but she willed it to steady long enough for her to scribble a quick note. She had to do something, and this was the first thing that came to her mind.  
  
Sirius  
  
Please, you're the only one who'll listen. Don't brush this off as nothing. Hedwig hasn't been able to reach Harry. I think something's wrong. Please help me.  
  
-Hermione  
  
She gave the note to Hermes, who she smuggled into Ginny's room without anyone noticing. He had been waiting impatiently for her to finish the letter, occasionally fluttering his wings at Hermione, getting her in the face with his brown feathers.  
  
"Take this to Sirius. Fast." Hermione said to the owl, who was sitting on Ginny's bed. His head cocked to the side as he waited for her to attach the letter to his leg. When he was sure it was securely attached, he flew out of the second story window, but not before trying to dig his talons into Hermione's bushy brown hair as a sign of his impatience for her.  
  
Hermione sat for an hour, just sitting, fiddling with her thumbs. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and she tapped her foot to nonexistent music. Soon Ginny came in to check on her. Her red hair falling in her eyes as she plopped down on the bed beside Hermione.  
  
"Why have you been up here for?" she asked. Hermione shrugged, and flopped backwards on the bed. Ginny lay down too.  
  
"Ron said you were worried about Harry. You don't have to. You-Know-Who can't get him you know." Ginny explained, as though Hermione hadn't previously known. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"I know Ginny, but I'm not worried about You-Know-Who, entirely anyways." Hermione said. Ginny shot up and looked at Hermione quizzically.  
  
"What? Who else would Harry be in danger of?" Ginny seemed worried, her eyebrows furrowed, and lines appearing on her forehead.  
  
Hermione shook her head, as though impatient with herself.  
  
"Never mind Ginny, it's nothing. Do you have any homework left?" Hermione asked. Ginny seeing a perfect opportunity for help with her potions homework, nodded and sprinted out of the room to get it, her red hair billowing behind her.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
"Yes, your hypothesis would be correct, but your procedure was wrong here," Hermione said pointing to a spot on the paper, "and here."  
  
"Oh.. Damn I hate potions." Ginny said setting down her quill. "I'll finish this later."  
  
"There's never a better time than now." Hermione said matter-of-factly, tapping her quill on Ginny's Potions textbook.  
  
"Potions is an exception." Ginny said in frustration. Hermione scoffed.  
  
Suddenly, a cracking noise was heard from the corner of the room. The window lifted open, and a rush of black robes tumbled to the floor.  
  
"S-" Hermione's hand flew over Ginny's mouth when she realized who it was. Ginny fought, but Hermione silenced her with an icy glare.  
  
"It's OK, he didn't kill anyone. You have to believe me. I'm going to take my hand away OK?" Ginny nodded her head profusely. "Don't scream."  
  
Ginny gasped for air, but didn't say anything. Sirius Black. Escaped criminal was in her bedroom.  
  
"Did you get my letter?" Hermione asked. Sirius nodded, and pulled something from his pocket.  
  
Ginny's eyes bulged. Now Hermione was writing letters to the convict?  
  
"A straw?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A portkey."  
  
"We're going to get Harry?"  
  
"Precisely. Get Ron."  
  
Hermione left, leaving Ginny and Sirius alone in the room. Ginny was backed up against the wall, hands over her face, in an attempt to protect herself.  
  
"Don't hurt me! Please! I wont tell anyone you were here, just leave me alone!" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to hurt you, Ginny is it?"  
  
"Yes.."  
  
Just then, Ron came stumbling into the room, Hermione behind him. Ron's eyes widened when he saw Ginny was in the room.  
  
"Ginny.. You can't tell anyone." Ron said sternly. "You hear me?"  
  
Ginny nodded soundlessly. Was he not dangerous? He came in my window, he better not be! Ginny thought.  
  
"Are we going to get Harry?" Hermione asked desperately.  
  
"Yes, but only because Hedwig hasn't reached him when I tried too." said Sirius a far away look in his eyes.  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
Petunia felt the hairs on her neck stand on end when she heard the bang. She felt like someone had reached into the darkness around her and pulled her out. She couldn't say she liked this better than the darkness.  
  
'Why aren't the meds working?' she thought, absentmindedly rubbing her head. Her upper thighs and back hurt. She guessed she had bed sores. Petunia sat up painfully, looking around her bedroom. Something was different. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, the pictures hung on the walls at an odd angle. And probably the strangest of all; Vernon's work desk was up against the closet.  
  
'What was that bang?' she thought, looking about the room. She noticed muddy footprints on the normally clean rosemary carpets. She tutted, but knew she wouldn't chastise Vernon for it. She swung her legs to the side of the bed and, grabbing onto her night table, she lifted herself to her feet. She felt as if her feet weren't attached to her. They wobbled from beneath her, her feet turning at odd angles. Petunia wanted to move the desk, but knew she couldn't. Vernon probably had it there for a reason, and she wasn't strong enough right now. She sneaked up on the door, and looked out of it, her eyes frantically searching the room. Her eyes were bloodshot. She heard movement downstairs, and in Dudley's room. She wouldn't go see her son. She crept down the stairs, holding onto the railing tightly.  
  
Vernon appeared at the bottom of the stairs having heard footsteps. He knew it couldn't be his son, because he went out the window to avoid him. When the face of his wife appeared before his eyes he stumbled backward.  
  
"Petunia?" His voice was hoarse. She nodded. "Everything's going to be OK now Petunia. I took care of the boy."  
  
Petunia's heart all but stopped beating. What was that supposed to mean. She didn't like his tone of voice. It sounded like he was a child who had done something bad, and was proud of it.  
  
"W-what do you mean.. dear?" She asked uncomfortably.  
  
"He's probably dead by now Petunia, don't worry about it. We can go back to the way we used to be. We can be happy again." He promised. Petunia shook her head disbelievingly. This wasn't happening.  
  
"What? Where is he? What did you do to him?" She asked without thinking. Vernon eyed her, but answered her slowly.  
  
"In our closet. He can't get out, don't worry." Vernon asked, assuming that was what was bothering her. She gulped slowly.  
  
'This isn't happening.." She prayed,  
  
"Can I er.. See what you did to him?" She faked a wicked grin, and her husband laughed.  
  
"Sure Hun." Hun?  
  
He led her back up and into the room. She trailed along behind, still on shaky legs. Vernon effortlessly lifted the desk out of the way. Petunia gasped silently. There was blood coming from inside. this couldn't be good. But the real shock came when her husband opened the closet door. Her husband had emptied the closet, only a few clothes hangers hung from a metal rod near the top. Her nephew lay scrunched in a corner of the small closet, head bent under his arm. His stomach was bleeding profusely, covering the carpet in a dark, almost black tint. She gasped out loud now. Something on her dresser caught her eye. The rifle.  
  
"YOU SHOT HIM?" Petunia asked, again without thinking. Vernon stepped closer to her.  
  
"We don't need his abnormalities in THIS house!" Vernon said furiously, stepping toward the boy. He kicked the boy, emitting a soft whimper.  
  
"STOP!" Petunia said covering her ears. She couldn't take it. Vernon stepped back to her and held her shoulders firmly. A little too firmly. Petunia yelped, backing away from him.  
  
"Leave me alone Vernon!" She screamed at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. They would be in so much trouble for this..  
  
"Petunia! He'll be dead by morning, then everything will be OK!"  
  
"No it wont Vernon! Look what you did to him! He's just a child!"  
  
"He's a pain in the ass! A fucking disgrace to humanity!"  
  
"I don't like him either, but he's just a child.. Just a child.." Petunia trailed off, looking back at her nephew, and then looked away with a grimace.  
  
"I'm leaving Vernon." She finally said. Vernon rounded on her, grabbing her wrists.  
  
"YOU WALK OUT THE DOOR-"  
  
"What Vernon? I can't live like this! The meds don't work for me anymore, I just can't do it Vernon!" Petunia said, struggling under Vernon's grip. Vernon's pent up anger all came out when his palm connected with her cheek in a audible 'slap'. Petunia's now free hand flew to her cheek as she held the reddening flesh. She let out little gasping breaths. She ripped her hand from Vernon's grasp and ran out of the room. The house was dark, as it was about midnight now. She passed by the living room, grabbing the car keys she knew Vernon left on the coffee table. She heard voices. Hushed, frantic whispers in her living room. She stepped into the room.  
  
"Hello?" She whispered through her tear cracked voice. The voices stopped. Petunia flicked the light switch. She nearly screamed. Three people. A girl, short with bushy brown hair. A boy, flaming red hair that seemed oddly familiar. A man, who also seemed familiar-  
  
"Sirius Black!" Petunia screeched. The girl came up to her with her hand out. She was looking oddly at the hand print on Petunia's face. Petunia pulled back.  
  
"Don't worry. He wont hurt you. We're here for Harry." The girl seemed to know that Petunia was in a fragile state. She noticed the tear lines on her face. Petunia let out a sob at the name 'Harry'.  
  
"Vernon has him." Petunia said, pointing to the stairs. "He shot him. Please get him out. I have to go.. I can't stay here." Petunia said. The girl's hand flew to her mouth upon hearing what the older woman said.  
  
"He SHOT my godson?" Sirius asked furiously. Petunia squeaked, and ran, but an audible 'I'm sorry' was heard on her way out.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Everyone was silent for a minute after Petunia left, before Hermione started to run up the stairs, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"Hermione wait!" Ron yelled, knowing Harry's uncle was up there with a gun.  
  
"I'll go, Ron give me your wand." Sirius said, staring at the top of stairs. Ron, holding out a shaking hand from silent sobs handed Sirius his wand. "Wait here. Don't come up until I tell you to." He added sternly. Ron and Hermione were reluctant to agree, but nodded. They watched Sirius' retreating back.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
Sirius cautiously gripped the stair railing, pulling himself up the stairs quietly. The door to the master bedroom was open. Sirius peeked in and saw a very large man sitting on his bed, holding his gun, stroking the smooth edge. Sirius didn't quite know how to approach him, as the second he entered the room, the man would surely shoot him. Sirius thought of Stupefying him from the doorway. That might work. He could just stick his hand in and stupefy him. Sirius took a deep breath.  
  
"Stupefy!" Sirius thanked Merlin when the curse hit Vernon, sending him rolling off the bed and onto the floor in a heap. Sirius carefully walked up to the oaf of a man and kicked him hard in the leg, just to make sure he wasn't awake. The man made no movement whatsoever. Sirius began searching the room with his eyes for his godson. He found nothing, but definitely smelt blood in the room, using his dog instincts. He followed the smell, and it led to an almost closed closet door. Sirius inhaled deeply and swung open the door.  
  
"HARRY!" Sirius fell to his knees before the boy, who was still bleeding freely. Sirius began peeling back Harry's shirt, getting a closer look at the wound. When he saw the damage, he felt like puking, but just applied pressure to the wound.  
  
"RON, HERMIONE!" Sirius yelled, tears coming down his cheeks. This was Harry, James' son. Lying in a heap in a closet, barely clinging to life. He knew he would regret calling the young teenagers into the room, but he needed their help. When they entered, they saw Sirius, bent over Harry's crumpled form. He was deathly pale, and a red fluid covered the closet in which he was laying.  
  
"We have to take him to Madame Pomfrey. Ron, go owl your dad, tell him to get Dumbledore to make a Portkey for Hogwarts. GO!" Ron had been standing staring at Harry with tears streaming down his face but jumped when Sirius' voice interrupted his thoughts. He ran from the room without looking back.  
  
"Hermione, I need you to keep pressure on this OK?" Sirius asked gently. Hermione's eyes bulged. She always got queasy around blood. And there was so much of it. She nodded and pushed both her hands firmly onto Harry's stomach, stopping some of the blood flow. Sirius got up and walked over to Vernon. He picked up the shot gun and held it right up against his nose, pointing it at Vernon, eyes red with fury.  
  
"SIRIUS NO!" Hermione said through a sob. "Don't do it. Please. He'll get what he deserves, but don't go as low as him." Hermione begged, not taking her hands from Harry's stomach. Sirius looked from Hermione to Harry and then back to Vernon. Sirius cocked the gun back and was about to shoot, but instead, placed the gun on the bed. Hermione sighed.  
  
"Thank you." She said, her eyes glistening. She was in hysterical sobs a while later, when Harry's breathing became shallow and more laboured. Sirius came over and muttered softly to Harry, stroking his fringe from his perspiring face.  
  
"It's going to be OK. Hold on for me Kiddo. You're going to be OK." Hermione's hands and half way up her forearms were covered in blood. Her skin was sticky, and both her arms stuck together, as she was trying to stop the bleeding.  
  
"Ron where are you?" Hermione asked desperately. She jumped an inch from the ground when Ron answered her.  
  
"Right here." Ron said, coming in, with his father behind him. Arthur Weasley's eyes bulged at the sight of the boy who was just like another son to him.  
  
"Is that Harry?" He asked in a small voice, much unlike his own. Sirius nodded.  
  
"Do you have a Portkey?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Right here. It's straight to the infirmary." Arthur said taking out a small plug. He gave a small smile at Albus' choice of objects. Sirius carefully picked up his godson, detaching Hermione. They all touched the Portkey, and felt the usual tug behind their navel, which sent them spiralling to Hogwarts.  
  
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There hope you liked. I am sorry I always leave cliffys but oh well, it makes you review, even if it is to yell at me.  
  
Please Review!  
  
blackenedsoul 


	3. In Search of Souls

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Sorry about that cliffy. Review questions now.  
  
Creamy Mimi: hehe.  
  
TheSilverLady: I was just toying with you. Don't worry about it. I wont.  
  
CokeFreak: Merci. I read a couple of your fics. I love it when you read someone's story and think it's good and then they review your story. Was that confusing? I think it was. Or I'm slow. I'm not a SPED!  
  
shdurrani: You just wait. I had people crying in my last fic (actually you read that one.. don't know if you cried though). This will get sadder. If that's a word.  
  
NightSpear: I will update Shoot the Moon when I get more reviews. This is quite different than WEWP and STM but I couldn't live without angst. Muhahaha.  
  
Marie: Dry your eyes child (Sorry.. I scared away a kid today saying that). LOL.  
  
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Sirius felt his feet slam into the hard floor of the Hogwarts infirmary. His ankles stung for a moment, and he took a minute to collect himself. Then he saw his godson in his arms. He looked like he was just sleeping. His pained expression was gone completely from his face, leaving his pale face with a peaceful look. His eyes were shut, his ebony eyelashes just brushing under his eyes. It left a shadow of thin lines on his cheeks in the dimly lit hospital wing. Sirius rushed to the nearest bed, laying Harry down carefully. When he touched the bed, the pained expression was back. Arthur was the first to speak.  
  
"I'll fetch Albus, Ron, can you find Madam Pomfrey?" Ron nodded to his father and went to a door to the side of the wing, her private quarters. It was a plain oak door, that looked strange against the white washed walls. Ron knocked softly at first, then a little louder.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey? Are you in there? It's an emergency!" Ron called, but no one answered. Ron opened the door a crack, peering in. The room had a desk, a bed, and a set of drawers. Papers were strewn across the table, and a few tea cups and saucers were laying on and around the desk on the floor. Ron shut the door and shrugged to Hermione and Sirius.  
  
"She's not there," Ron said, casting a worried glance to his best friend, lying on the bed, blood soaking the white sheets despite Hermione's attempt to slow the rush of blood.  
  
"Sirius he's lost a lot of blood. We need to find her!" Hermione cried, looking like she was going to sob and throw up at the same time, a crinkled, sour look about her.  
  
"Ron go look, I'll search for a blood-clotting potion or something." said Sirius, not really knowing what he was doing. He certainly wasn't a medi- witch. Ron nodded, throwing a towel to Hermione from a shelf as he passed. Hermione took her hands from Harry's stomach, and covered the wound in the towel, continuing to put pressure into it. She gagged once, leaning over to her side, away from the bed in fear of puking.  
  
"Are you OK?" Sirius asked coming closer. Hermione stuck out her hand to stop him.  
  
"I'm OK. There's just so much blood. I-I've never been good around it." Hermione said recalling the time her and her cousin had been bike riding down by the small hills behind her house. They were quite steep, but seven- year-olds didn't care, they just wanted the thrill, the wind blowing past their ears. Her cousin had been going down one, when she tipped over, and her leg hit a rather pointy rock. She was crying like mad, and Hermione didn't know what to do. She saw the blood on her cousin's knee and promptly threw up in the bushes next to her. But this was worse than then. There was more blood, and this was Harry.  
  
Arthur Weasley and Ron came back in then, with Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey almost fainted on the spot, but rushed over to the boy.  
  
"Good job dear, I'll need you to keep doing that until I find my blood clotting potion." said Madam Pomfrey, bustling about the room picking up gauze, scissors and bottles and bottles of god knows what. Hermione was incredibly relieved when she could take her hands away. She ran to the sink to wash the blood off.  
  
"I need you to all leave me to work. This wont be easy. I haven't much experience with Muggle weapons.." said Madam Pomfrey with a sigh. She rushed back to the boy lying on the now partially white hospital bed. She waved them out with her hand, in a flicking motion.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Hermione, Ron, Sirius and Dumbledore exited the hospital wing with grim faces. Sirius glanced towards Dumbledore. He wore a face full of regret and sorrow. He blamed himself, thought Sirius with a mental shake of the head.  
  
"It isn't your fault Albus," said Sirius in a low, hoarse voice. Dumbledore bowed his head slightly. He accepted this slightly.  
  
"I am to blame for certain aspects. I should have never left him there." Dumbledore said looking toward the ceiling, as if all the answers lay up there.  
  
"You didn't know, none of us did. Let's not play the blame game." Hermione said, sitting down in a small, folding chair that were positioned in the hallway. Ron sat down too. Sirius thought that Ron's silence unnerved him. Hermione looked disturbed, and had a far away thinking look on her face. But Ron just wore a blank look. Unreadable.  
  
"I need to owl Lupin, he would want to know about anything like this." Sirius said standing up. Dumbledore pushed him back down gently.  
  
"Allow me, Sirius. I need to go owl Minerva as well. We need to find a new home for Harry." Dumbledore said, turning on his heel and walking briskly for his office. Sirius turned back to Ron and Hermione, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to talk this out with them.  
  
"Are you two alright?" asked Sirius, leaning their way. They both nodded mutely. Sirius sighed.  
  
"Harry will be OK.you know that right?" Both nodded again soundlessly. Sirius closed his eyes temporarily. Right now, it didn't look as if Harry would be alright, but he was doing what any sensible adult would do. He told them a lie. That everything would be OK. That's what they wanted to hear.  
  
Hours passed, no Madam Pomfrey. She hadn't come out to update them on Harry's condition at all. Everyone was growing steadily more worried. Finally, the wooden door creaked open on it's rusty hinges, light spilling into the dark hallway, making all three shield their eyes. They jumped up once they realized what was going on. She sighed  
  
"He's alive, but I can't say it's good. He lost a lot of blood, and received a blood transfusion from what I had in my stores. He will be terribly weak and in a lot of pain for some time. He should live though," said Madam Pomfrey with immense hope in her voice. Hermione spoke up first, after a moment of stunned silence.  
  
"Will we be able to see him now?" Hermione asked, stepping closer, and peering in the door. Madam Pomfrey smiled sadly.  
  
"Of course Ms. Granger. Go right in, he'll be sleeping for a time, maybe even days, if the pain doesn't wake him."  
  
The three walked through the wooden door, and into the dimly lit room. It was brighter than the hallway, but still dim. Harry lay sleeping, looking deathly pale. Madam Pomfrey came in behind them and continued talking.  
  
"Along wit the bullet wound, he had four broken ribs, severe malnutrition and something I would like to speak to you later about Mr. Black."  
  
"Sirius," he corrected. She nodded.  
  
"There are some chairs around the room. Call if you need anything, or if his condition changes." Madam Pomfrey, bustling into her quarters. Everyone averted their eyes back to Harry's sleeping form, deathly pale and still. His eyes would twitch occasionally, but that was the only movement. He still had a pained look about his face. Sirius sighed, taking Harry's hand in his. Sirius scanned his godson's body. There was a large bandage wrapped around his upper stomach, where the bullet wound was. His rib cage was also bandaged tightly, making the rise and fall of his chest when breathing more strained. Sirius looked back to Ron and Hermione. Both were very pale also, and Hermione had tears rolling silently down her face, leaving shiny, translucent streaks down her face. Ron was trying desperately hard to keep them in he was shaking.  
  
"Maybe you two should get some rest."  
  
"NO!" both said in unison. Sirius sighed.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes," both said again together, but hushed this time. If they were to speak loudly again, Madam Pomfrey would run in there like a bat out of hell to screech at them. Sirius nodded, understanding their worry. He didn't want to leave Harry either.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Sirius awoke in the middle of the night to find Madam Pomfrey leaning over Harry. He had fallen asleep on the chair, as well as Hermione and Ron. Sirius jumped up, wondering if anything was OK.  
  
"What's going on?" Sirius asked groggily and in a whisper as not to wake Hermione and Ron. He leaned over to see what was wrong. Harry had his brilliant green eyes half open, and his eyes were glazed with tears. Sirius was immediately at his side.  
  
"You awake Kiddo?" he asked, smoothing Harry's hair from his eyes. Harry nodded, and closed his eyes again.  
  
"He's been up with the pain. I gave him a pain reliever potion, and a dreamless sleep. He should be OK now but if he complains about the pain after ten minutes from now, call me." She instructed, and walked back to her room, leaving her door open a crack, if the need for her help arose suddenly. Sirius turned back to Harry, who had his eyes open again. "You OK Kid?" Sirius asked, looking into Harry's pain-watered eyes. Harry nodded, face expressionless, except for the now classic pained expression. Sirius sighed and enclosed his Godson's hand in his.  
  
"You're going to be OK. You know that right?" Harry nodded again, but it was less noticeable, as he was slowly slipping into sleep. Sirius watched as his eyes closed, his eyelashes touching the dark shadows that were there from lack of sleep. Sirius, once sure Harry was asleep, set his head down upon the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes, falling asleep as well.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Sunlight filtered into the room, creating lines upon the white washed walls with the gaps between the blinds, making a striped pattern on the walls. Four people lay sleeping in the room, as the early morning went unnoticed to them, as they slept on.  
  
The eldest teenager, lay in an awkward position, with his arms over the back of the chair, his head leaning down, his chin on his chest, eyes closed in his peaceful slumber, red hair dangling in his eyes. The young girl lay with her back bent forward, so her chest was against her knees. Her chin rested on her knee caps, and her arms were folded between her stomach and thighs. The eldest in the room, his upper body was sprawled across a hospital bed, and he was sitting in his chair. One hand still clung onto his Godson's hand, the other was lying across Harry's legs.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Harry opened his eyes slowly, feeling the morning numbness throughout his body. Then he felt pain erupt in his stomach as he tried to move. His chest felt tight, making breathing very strenuous, and painful. He felt a weight on his legs and looked down. Sirius was laying across the end on the bed, while his lower body was still sitting in the chair. Harry smiled slightly. Then snapped out of it. If they were here, then that meant they knew about his uncle. Them knowing meant.they knew he was weak know. They knew what his uncle did and knew how he couldn't defend himself.against a Muggle. A measly Muggle. One man, against a boy who was supposed to have nearly defeated one of the most powerful dark wizards in the history of magic. 'The savoir of the wizarding world' couldn't even kick his uncle's ass, when he kicked the ass of a dark wizard when he was a baby.  
  
Embarrassment flushed his cheeks red and he turned his head, facing the side, looking out of the window, blinded by the shades. His eyes glazed with tears.  
  
'Don't cry. Crying makes you vulnerable. Even more weak. You can't risk that.' said Harry firmly to himself, forcing back the tears, into the depths of behind his eyes, where he stored the feelings that he simply couldn't let go. He felt as if his eyes used to be hollow. When he was carefree, when he lived with his parents. Now, they were full of memories, emotions that were too personal to be released upon the world. Of course, he couldn't confirm this, as he didn't remember his parents at all. Nothing. Everyone asked him that. He always answered the same thing. Nothing. Not a smell, a familiar sight or even the feeling of something. He couldn't remember feelings of comfort his mother gave him as she held him and rocked him slowly on the spot, holding him to her, whispering things. Whispering her love for him. For her son. Nothing. Not even his father smiling with pride everyday that Harry would become more like him. Nothing.  
  
Harry had built walls around himself on bad days. He had plastered each brick into place, each covering him more from the world. He liked it that way. No one could touch him. Hurt him. No one could love him. Harry had never felt love, and was now scared of it. He saw what it did to his parents. They loved each other enough to have Harry, and in turn were killed for it. But dying wouldn't be so bad.  
  
Harry remembered all those nights where there was no one he could go to, no one he could confide in. The anger and sadness were just too much for him. It was only this summer. The first time he touched the blade to his wrist. The first time had been in fact to rid the world of the insufferable git that was himself. He hadn't wanted to wake the next morning. He sliced open each vein he could see through his papery skin. Then, he had started to panic. He covered his arms in a towel, wrapping them tightly until the next morning, when they had stopped bleeding. Harry didn't think they would, but for some reason they did. The whole thing was beyond him.  
  
Harry shook himself. 'The past is past. Don't dwell on it.' That is what Dumbledore had wrote in a letter to him during the summer, trying to stop Harry from blaming himself for Cedric's death. Harry had laughed at this. It wasn't funny, it was just so disbelieving. The past was all he had. He had no future.  
  
Sirius stirred from his current uncomfortable position. He was startled to see Harry staring back at him.  
  
"Harry? Hey Kid. You feeling better?" asked Sirius, getting the fringe from Harry's eyes. Harry moved away. He didn't feel better, but if he told the truth, there would be a million questions.  
  
"Yeah. Doesn't hurt much." Harry said trying to hide his grimace, turning it into a nervous smile. Sirius accepted this.  
  
"Ron and Hermione will be up soon. We were worried sick about you." Harry could find a suitable response. All he could come up with were 'just leave me the fuck alone' and 'don't you ever shut up? I don't need your pity.' Harry wasn't mad at Sirius, but felt embarrassed and angry at himself.  
  
"We have to talk about this sooner or later you know," said Sirius in a whispered voice. Harry closed his eyes in concentration. He was fighting back tears, and fighting the urge to scream. That's what he really wanted to do. Scream. Scream and punch something. Hard.  
  
"I know." said Harry with a sigh, which caused pain in his chest to build up. He winced.  
  
"Harry?" A gruff, hoarse voice said from beyond them. Sirius turned and leaned back, showing Ron, rubbing his eyes fiercely, and sitting up.  
  
"Hey Ron." Harry said in his hoarse voice. Ron smiled.  
  
"Glad to see you mate. Though I lost you." Ron tried to smile, but Harry could tell he was fighting tears. Harry smiled at him weakly. Ron elbowed Hermione in the ribs. She moaned in her sleep. Ron elbowed her again.  
  
"Ron I know! I'm awake! I just don't feel like opening my eyes yet. Too tired." Hermione said sinking back into her previous position. Ron groaned.  
  
"Harry's awake," he said. Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry looking back at her. She launched herself out of the chair and next to Harry's bed.  
  
"Oh god Harry! I was so worried about you! Are you alright?" She asked, giving him the once over. Harry nodded, again hiding a grimace. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey."  
  
When Hermione was gone Ron hugged Harry, which surprised both of them. Ron pulled back.  
  
"Sorry. That was just the scariest thing that's ever happened to me." Ron said wiping his eyes on his sleeve.  
  
"Ron, I'm OK." Harry assured. Ron nodded.  
  
"I know. You're my best friend Harry. Don't do that again." Ron said.  
  
'As if I had a choice' Harry thought.  
  
"You're my best friend too Ron, I wont. I swear."  
  
Sirius smiled. Their friendship was so much like his and James. If anyone observed them, they would think they had known each other since they were embryos or something. Or they were joined at the hip. Best friends were rare of this kind. Most friends (especially male ones) wouldn't have deep and serious conversations like Harry and Ron did, or him and James. He thanked Merlin every day for the time he had spent with James, even if it had been cut short.  
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God it's late. I have to be up tomorrow too. PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW!  
  
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	4. Souls in Search of Something

Lilobgirl: Thank you.  
  
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Athena73: I think it will get to be a little bit more of a tearjerker, so brace yourself.  
  
Lela Potter: Thanks!  
  
Jaycee: I intend to keep writing. Thanks!  
  
Alexial: Actually, I like abuse stories. I live off of them.  
  
Alex (shdurrani): interesting huh? Most of my stories are hard to find words for. interesting being one that suits them all. LOL.  
  
Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. My chapters go up faster, when more people review.  
  
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly; A flower that dies when first it gins to bud; A brittle glass that's broken presently: A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. And as goods lost are seld or never found, As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh, As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground, As broken glass no cement can redress, So beauty blemish'd once's for ever lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost.  
  
-William Shakespeare  
  
Starseed ____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Sirius was worried. Madam Pomfrey had to talk to him about something she couldn't say in front of Ron and Hermione. This unnerved him. Harry had been getting little sleep because of the pain. He wouldn't complain, he would just try and put on a good face for Ron and Hermione. Sirius could still see the grimace he tried to hide.  
  
Sirius walked out into the hallway, his feet making sounds on the polished tile. Madam Pomfrey was ahead of him, she lead him to a corner and sighed, her brown hair coming out of her tight bun at the nape of her neck in worry. It went into her eyes, which she wiped away annoyed.  
  
"What is it you have to talk to me about?" Sirius asked, leaning against the castle wall. He kept checking over his shoulder. He couldn't let the professors see him. Dumbledore had only told Madam Pomfrey, because it was essential for her to know, as Sirius wouldn't leave Harry, but practically no one came down here. Madam Pomfrey sighed again. "Is Harry OK?"  
  
"I believe so for now Mr. Black. I found something when I was checking over Mr. Potter when you brought him in." she said. Sirius raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What did you find?" Sirius asked, stumbling over his words slightly.  
  
"I found cuts on his wrists and forearms. Some looked new and deep. I had to stitch a few," she explained. Sirius gasped.  
  
"So you think he's been cutting himself! It's impossible! Harry wouldn't do that! He's smarter than that!" Sirius exclaimed. The matron hushed him by placing her hand over his mouth.  
  
"SHH! We can't let Ms. Granger or Mr. Weasley hear this. It's Harry's business. We can help him, but no one else needs to know unless he wants to tell them. Understood?" Madam Pomfrey asked sternly. Sirius nodded, eyes rolled up in his head. The matron scoffed.  
  
"And I don't like that attitude Mr. Black. It seems you have yet to grow up."  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Ron and Hermione hadn't left Harry's bedside, other than to get summer homework to work on in Hermione's case, and in Ron's case, to get something to eat.  
  
"We still have a week left of holidays. You won't catch me dead doing that until the last night of holidays." Ron said, as though disgusted with Hermione's behaviour. Hermione gasped loudly in response.  
  
"That's ridicules Ron! Do you know how much work you're going to have to do in one night?" She asked exasperated. Ron thought about it.  
  
"Well, there's the Potions assignment, two rolls of parchment on why asphodelle can't be mixed directly with Crocodile intestine. Then there's the History of Magic paper. That's only a roll of the rebellion of the squibs of 1312. And then it's only Care of Magical Creatures project.. But my Flobber Worm has already died." Ron stated embarrassed.  
  
"That's not all Ron! We still have another two rolls for Transfiguration. But that was your choice of topic. I chose how people and animals are linked through transfiguration. Quite fascinating really-" Hermione's speech was interrupted.  
  
"Harry, I bet you haven't done all of yours yet. You can do it with me on August 31st." Ron said with a small laugh. Harry became a little shifty.  
  
"Er- I already did it." He said quietly.  
  
"WHAT!?" Ron asked disbelievingly.  
  
"I had nothing to do at the Dursleys.." Harry trailed off at the mention of his relatives. Hermione looked over to Ron hastily.  
  
"Ron, let it go. Me and Harry will help you. But not on the last day. Bring your stuff down. You have it with you don't you?" Hermione asked.  
  
"No. But Mum's bringing it over tonight. Says I need to work on something." Ron said.  
  
"Good, well we'll get half it done tonight." Hermione stated in a final way. Ron growled angrily at her, but she wisely chose to ignore it.  
  
Suddenly, a large white creature hurled itself at the window, making tiny scratching sounds with it's talons.  
  
"Hedwig!" Harry cried in delight. Harry had told his owl to find somewhere safe to stay while Vernon was on a rampage. Hermione jumped up and slid open the window, and the owl fluttered in, waving her long wings and set down on the side table, next to Harry's bed. Harry smiled at her, but she had a letter clenched in her beak. Harry reached for it and tugged it away from her grasp. She hooted softly. Harry unfolded the letter slowly. It read.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I'm safe now. I left Vernon. He has Dudley, I couldn't take him. He's exactly like his father. He won't admit it, but he is. Every time I look at Dudley I'd see Vernon. I had to leave Dudley with him, and I hate to think of what the two have done to each other. I have filed for divorce. I'm moving to my mother's house for a while. I'm sorry I had to leave you like that and I'm sorry. I liked my sister, but I hated your father. It's best not to ask questions about that.  
  
Goodbye,  
  
Petunia  
  
Harry looked up from the note in awe. His aunt didn't find him repulsive after all. 'But why did she hate my dad?' Harry wondered to himself.  
  
"Who's the note from Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"M-my aunt." Harry said, trailing off yet again.  
  
"Is she OK? She looked quite shaken up when we saw her." Hermione explained, leaving out the part of the overlarge handprint on her cheek, and the finger marks on her neck.  
  
"I think so. She left Dudley with my uncle. She's divorcing him." Harry said handing Hermione the note first, she passed it to Ron after she quickly skimmed through it.  
  
"Good for her." Hermione said proudly. She knew many women were too afraid to get a divorce.  
  
"Yeah," Ron muttered, showing no emotion. Hermione gawked at him.  
  
"What did you two do on your holiday?" Harry asked changing the subject.  
  
"I was at the burrow. Ron mostly played Quidditch with Fred and George, so I did my homework with Ginny." Hermione said.  
  
"Poor Ginny." Harry said.  
  
"Shut up Harry." Hermione said holding up a fist. Ron chuckled.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
"I can tell that Harry has a lot of pent up anger. This will cause him to have a breakdown if he doesn't let out some steam. He needs to talk to someone." Madam Pomfrey said, pacing a circle around her paper cluttered desk. Sirius sat stiffly in a chair.  
  
"I'll talk to him." Sirius offered. Madam Pomfrey nodded.  
  
"You can't blow up at him when he blows you at you. But I want you to try your best to make sure he talks about his self mutilation. He can't keep this up. Try not to let him do it again. Don't pressure him into stopping, but make sure you get the message across that he can't keep it up." Madam Pomfrey explained. Sirius nodded.  
  
"You can go is you wish. Wait until his friends go for dinner. When he wants to stop talking, stop." Madam Pomfrey advised, turning the knob on her door. It swung open slowly, filtering into a room much brighter than the small office. Sirius was surprised to see Hedwig sitting next to Harry. Harry hadn't even noticed Sirius enter, he was just staring out the window, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig's white feathers. Sirius saw Harry breath deeper, sighing. He winced as it obviously jarred his healing ribs. Ron and Hermione had gone off to dinner Sirius supposed, and Harry was filling in time, by thinking. Sirius could tell by the way his skin went into wrinkles between his eyebrows, and his eyes went squinty. He was deep in thought, and looked exactly like James, save the green eyes and the thinner form, they were identical.  
  
"Harry?" Harry looked up abruptly, causing Hedwig to flutter her wings in an irritated manner. Harry breathed out when he saw it was only his Godfather. He watched as Sirius sat down in one of the empty chairs next to his bed. The abandoned vigil.  
  
"Sorry. What were you thinking about?" Sirius inquired. Harry looked worried and scared for a second, before Sirius corrected himself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." They were silent for a long moment. Harry's facial expression didn't change, and he turned his attention to the window before speaking.  
  
"Am I going to be sent to a foster home?" asked Harry. His voice was cracking under the pressure he had put himself under. He didn't take his gaze from the window. Sirius opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. He had never thought of that.  
  
"I haven't discussed it with Dumbledore yet, but I wont let that happen Harry! I'll take you into hiding with me if I have to!" Harry knew Sirius was joking, and found it mildly inappropriate at the moment. This was something that had been eating away at him for a while. He didn't want to be shipped of to people he didn't know. They could turn out to be exactly like Vernon. Or worse. If that was possible.  
  
"Harry I mean it when I say I wont let you go to a foster home. The Weasleys would take you in before they let you go either." Sirius said reassuringly. Harry sighed.  
  
"I wouldn't go with them Sirius. They have so many kids. Maybe it won't be so bad.." Harry lied, eyes filling with tears. Sirius's heart broke in two.  
  
"Come here Kiddo." Sirius whispered, pulling Harry into a loose hug, careful not to put pressure onto his bruises. Harry hugged him back unenthusiastically.  
  
"We have to talk about something." Sirius breathed.  
  
"What?" Harry asked.  
  
"You. You're uncle." Sirius said pushing Harry back onto his back so he could relax. Relaxing wasn't something he was used to.  
  
"Do we have to?" Harry asked, squinting in one eye. Sirius looked pointedly at him.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What do you want me to say? What will get you all off my back?" Harry asked, a little annoyed.  
  
And so it begins, thought Sirius.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"I'm just tired of it I guess. If that's what you want to hear." Harry said.  
  
"I only want to hear the truth." Sirius said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't flinch away, but looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Well, I am tired of it all. All the pain, all the deaths because of me. My mother died in vain you know. She died to save me, but I only accomplished killing more people. More people who didn't deserve to die. I see them you know. I see what Voldemort does. I see him with the people, I see what he does to them. He kills in many ways I didn't even know were possible. Or I was just being naïve. I don't know. He would just flat out kill the men, but he takes his time with the women. You know what I mean don't you? I don't want to go into detail." Harry seemed terribly worn out after getting this out, but he didn't stop, it seemed to be flowing from him. His thoughts, past and his emotions.  
  
"You see that? Why didn't you owl Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, furious. Not at Harry, just at the world. Harry seemed a little reluctant to go on.  
  
"I did, at the beginning of the summer, when it first started. Dumbledore told me to write down things. People I might recognise, places or just thoughts that came to me with the visions." Harry said.  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"Yeah, until it got really bad, until I started to see people getting cut up.." Harry said. Sirius gasped audibly.  
  
"CUT UP?" He asked loudly. Harry nodded.  
  
"Among other things. Please don't make me talk about those yet." Harry said closing his eyes, telling Sirius silently he didn't want to talk anymore.  
  
"OK Harry. Go to sleep. I'll tell Ron and Hermione to stop by in the morning. I think they sleep in Gryffindor tower. I know my way around there." Sirius noticed that Harry's breathing was even, his face looked younger. He was asleep. Looked so much younger than he really was. Almost fifteen, and yet when he slept he looked ten maybe. Sirius smiled and walked to the windows. He saw the starry skies, black, speckled with tiny orbs of light. The grounds were dark, just black silhouettes against a grey background of sky. He pulled the curtains closed, covering the darkness of the night with the silky white fabric the slipped between he fingers as he walked away.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Sirius crept up into Gryffindor tower, finding it eerily quiet. It was probably because only two people were sleeping there. The light from the sun peeking over the horizon was shining through the windows, and one of them was open, letting in a small breeze that ruffled Crookshanks fur. The large ginger cat was sleeping in a sort of nest it had made for itself, consisting of what Sirius guessed were Ron's socks and the cushions from the couch. Crookshanks himself looked like a very furry rug. Sirius slipped past it, careful not to step on the orange paw that had slipped from the bed.  
  
He tried not to let the floorboards squeak as he made his way up each, turning his socked feet sideways, creeping up the wooden stairs at an odd angle. Ron was still asleep, and like Crookshanks, he was in a heap, head under the covers, but Ron was definitely in there, as Sirius saw a speck of red hair sticking out near the pillows. Ron looked odd there, as when Sirius had last been in there, in their third year, the room was packed with boys, one snoring very loudly. Now the only sound was Ron grinding his teeth. Sirius closed the door behind him and went to the girls dorms to see if Hermione was up. The door was open, and she was reading through a book.  
  
"What you reading?" Asked Sirius leaning against the doorframe. Hermione looked up a little startled, but closed her book calmly.  
  
"I'm reading up on the Wizarding Laws and Rights. It's much like Muggle laws. Everyone has a right to a trial. Ron's been helping me with it. We're going to find a way for you to be free. Harry needs you." Hermione told the fugitive.  
  
"No. I'm going to soon. Back to Remus's when Harry's better. You all could get in trouble for harbouring a fugitive. They'll never know I was here." Sirius explained nonchalantly. Hermione gaped at him.  
  
"But you need to be with Harry! He's depressed Sirius cant you see that?" She cried in frustration.  
  
"I know. I had a good talk with him last night. I know he needs me, I need him. But I can't be there. I can't be a father to Harry. I wasn't cut out for this." Sirius said sitting down on the bed across from Hermione's. He bent down and put his head in his hands.  
  
"No one's asking you to be Harry's father. He just needs someone to talk to." Hermione comforted.  
  
"But you and Ron-"  
  
"Me and Ron haven't been through what Harry's been through." Hermione explained.  
  
"And you think I have!"  
  
"You're the closest one. Be there Sirius. That's all I'm asking. I've seen what a trauma like this can do to a person. If Harry doesn't get help, he'll never be Harry again." Hermione said desperately.  
  
"OK." Sirius breathed. Hermione smiled at him.  
  
"What's this all about then?" Ron's groggy face appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Talking. About Sirius's freedom." Hermione quickly lied. "Did you find anything last night?"  
  
"Nope." Ron said with a shrug.  
  
"NOTHING? I gave you fifteen books Ron! There was nothing in any of them?"  
  
"Well I didn't look through all of them.."  
  
"That's your problem." Hermione said with a laugh. Ron mocked it and Hermione threw her book at him.  
  
"Now I would have thought you would know that's no way to treat a book." Ron said teasing.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
"I have to talk to Harry for a while, so why don't you guys go and get some food from the kitchens?" Sirius asked, standing in front of the infirmary. The two teens nodded, and started walking in the other direction, Hermione smiling back at Sirius.  
  
Sirius opened the door, swinging it open quietly. Harry needed sleep, and if he was asleep, then Sirius didn't want to wake him. Thankfully, he was awake. Sirius wanted to talk with him. Hermione was right.  
  
"Hey Sirius." Harry said not even looking at him, he was staring out the window still. Wondering where he would be going next. Where they would ship him off to. Other people to hurt him.  
  
"Hey Kid. How are you?" Sirius asked, giving him the once over. Harry's face still showed the shadows of bruises yet to fade, and his lip was still split, but it wasn't as noticeable. "You look better."  
  
"I feel better." Harry agreed, but he still hadn't taken his eyes from the window.  
  
"Whacha staring at?" Sirius asked, sitting down in the chair he usually sat in. Shifting slightly to make himself comfortable. Harry finally averted his gaze.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind." Sirius inhaled deeply. "Want to talk some more?"  
  
"About what?" Harry asked, staring at his hands.  
  
"About you." Sirius stated simply. They had gone over this yesterday. "Start from where you left off yesterday."  
  
"About the dreams?"  
  
"Yeah, did you have one last night?" Sirius asked. Harry shook his head 'no'.  
  
"Haven't had one since I got here." Harry lied, but Sirius didn't notice, as Harry was still looking at his hands.  
  
"That's good right?"  
  
"I guess," Harry said, "I don't have to dream for me to have a vision though."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sirius inquired.  
  
"Well, sometimes a word pops into my head.. Do you ever get that?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah.."  
  
"Well it's sort of like that, but it's not."  
  
"That doesn't make sense."  
  
"It does to me." Harry said. "You're looking, but you're not seeing."  
  
"Huh?" Sirius asked, puzzled.  
  
"Well, a word pops into my head, and then more do. I thread them together, and it's sort of what he's doing."  
  
"I'm still not following," Sirius said, looking at his godson quizzically.  
  
"The last one was 'Wormtail', 'Crucio', 'Potter', 'Book of Thead and Rurtote'. It's a plan of some sort. I haven't figured that one out yet." Harry explained.  
  
"Thead and Rurtote?" Sirius asked quizzically. "Is it another language?"  
  
"I'm only aware of English and Parceltongue. It's not either of them." Harry stated. Sirius nodded.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe you should ask Dumbledore?" Harry nodded.  
  
"I will soon. I just want to see if I get more of the message. It might help." Harry said.  
  
"Ok. I'll leave you to your thoughts." Sirius said with a wave. Harry smiled and waved back, before returning to his thoughts. More things flashed. Pain. Blood. Fear. Harry could smell the fear. He could taste the metallic of blood on his tongue. What was happening? He could feel the pain throughout his body, and he could sense people around him. Mocking, haunting shapes pointing at him.  
  
Harry sat up. He felt oddly cold and hot at the same time. A bead of sweat dropped from his eyelashes, and down into his blanket covered lap. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down.  
  
"I guess that was the rest of it." Harry thought as he fell back against the pillows, knowing he wouldn't sleep anymore that night.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
And thus the plot begins!  
  
Well, that's the chapter. Hope you like.  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!!  
  
PLEASETELL ME WHAT SHIPS YOU GUYS WANT. I AM A FAN OF H/H AND IT WILL BE THAT UNLESS YOU GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS. RON NEEDS SOMEONE TOO!  
  
THE RELATIONSHIPS WONT BE BIG PARTS IN THE STORY.  
  
-blackenedsoul 


	5. Interlude

-Due to ff.net's new rule about Author's notes as chapters, I have decided to make chapter five an interlude with a new poem.

**_On My Own_**

_blackenedsoul___

**_Under an ebony sky_**_  
  
Where you can't see the stars  
  
Inside the clustered streets  
  
Trapped by bars  
  
I never wanted to be here  
  
You practically put me here  
  
Chastised until I couldn't take it  
  
Insulted so much I couldn't wake from it  
  
There's never any silence here  
  
Except for what's in my head  
  
The noise pushes me  
  
Until I'm hanging by a thread  
  
The sun doesn't shine here  
  
At least from where I stand  
  
The grass isn't greener  
  
There's no one to understand  
  
I left you this morning  
  
Left all I've ever known  
  
Left all my memories  
  
To get out on my own  
  
I hate it here even more than I hate you  
  
That's saying something  
  
I know no one here  
  
I get pushed around a lot  
  
By your angry whisper in my ear  
  
The streets never leave me alone  
  
Just like you  
  
But this time I'm by myself  
  
No one to help me through  
  
Not that I needed you  
  
You'd still scold me 'til I can't take it  
  
Insulted so much I can't break from it  
  
The sun doesn't shine here  
  
At least from where I stand  
  
The grass isn't greener  
  
There's no one to understand  
  
I left you this morning  
  
Left all I've ever known  
  
Left all my memories  
  
To get out on my own  
  
I know you didn't look for me  
  
You were happy to see me gone  
  
My bed neatly made  
  
The shades loosely drawn  
  
You probably had a smile on your face  
  
You found your mistake gone  
  
No more disgrace  
  
No more wasting your breath  
  
on someone who's not worth it  
  
No more yelling  
  
No one plaguing you 'til your death  
  
The sun doesn't shine here  
  
At least from where I stand  
  
The grass isn't greener  
  
There's no one to understand  
  
I left you this morning  
  
Left all I've ever known  
  
Left all my memories  
  
To get out on my own  
  
I had hoped you'd find me  
  
But all that's lost  
  
What good is hope here?  
  
The line's behind me  
  
I've crossed  
  
No more looking back  
  
Because it's only you  
  
I wont reminisce about you  
  
Or laugh myself to sleep about you  
  
I can't hold on to myself  
  
Because I let you go  
  
The sun doesn't shine here  
  
At least from where I stand  
  
The grass isn't greener  
  
There's no one to understand  
  
I left you this morning  
  
Left all I've ever known  
  
Left all my memories  
  
To get out on my own_


	6. Let it Go

I Have got a BIG plan for the story besides the book and the visions. I don't know if all of you will like it.. OK, here goes, what would you say if I brought James Potter back to life? There is a reason why he isn't dead, and it's not a spell. I just wanted to ask. ANSWER IN A REVIEW DO NOT EMAIL ME. I AM LAZY AND DON'T CHECK IT OFTEN.  
  
Starseed  
  
Sirius ran into the infirmary, bounding down the corridors like a bat out of hell. His feet ached, and his breath was leaving his chest but he didn't care. He didn't even stop when the sharp pain of a stitch in his side threatened to slow him down. He had only a short distance to go, and needn't worry about teachers. Dumbledore had secluded Sirius to a small area of the castle where little to no teachers went. Those whose quarters were close, or tended to wander round the halls during lazy summer days were informed, and made to swear into secrecy that they would not tell the other teachers about the new information given to them.  
  
Sirius chuckled. Snape hadn't been told, as his quarters were down in the dungeons, and he rarely ventured out, other than to retrieve his evening meals (which he ate in the solitude of his private chambers) and to meet with Dumbledore when necessary. Snape had told Dumbledore that it was necessary for him to stay at Hogwarts this summer, because it was a part of Snape's supposed extensive spying on Dumbledore. Sirius could just imagine the look on Snape's face if he knew his mortal enemy was stowed away in the castle.  
  
Sirius took the path Dumbledore had outlined for him, a direct route from his chambers to the infirmary, taking the long winding corridor, turning left past Flitwik's chambers (which had an abnormally small door) and the door to the infirmary was the second on the left, the first being Madam Pomfrey's extra storage space. Flitwik's chambers were so close to the infirmary, Sirius knew because he wasn't very tentative, and being that short, you would have to be. He was constantly hitting his head on table ledges and walking into pillars.  
  
Sirius stood in the doorway for a moment, just breathing and holding onto the doorframe. His breath was coming in short pants, his chest felt tight and oddly cold compared to the rest of his overheated and perspiring body. Yes, Sirius Black was definitely not in shape.  
  
He opened the door, noisily, causing a "SHUSH!" from Madam Pomfrey, who was currently poking Harry with various odds and ends. Harry snorted when she poked him on the knee.  
  
There's nothing wrong with my knee! There wasn't when I came here, and I certainly haven't been overexerting it since then." Harry said with a hint of cheek in his voice. He was tired of this little game she played. She poked in a slightly faded green area (from bruising) and Harry sucked in his breath.  
  
"You see? That's exactly why I poke!" Madam Pomfrey said, going to retrieve some fast-healing-bruise potion. Sirius smiled at Harry. Harry looked up, just realizing that his godfather was in the room.  
  
"Oh, hey. Didn't see you there." Harry said nonchalantly. Sirius scoffed.  
  
"Nice to know you care." He said with fake sarcasm. Harry smiled.  
  
"What's with you? I saw you bounding in here. Where's the fire?" Sirius looked at Harry quizzically, he wasn't too associated with Muggle clichés.  
  
"Fire? What?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
"Anyways Harry, I have great news!" Sirius exclaimed, running and sitting in a chair. Harry sat up, wincing slightly. His stomach still hurt to sit up a little, and it was very painful when Sirius had to help him to the bathroom.  
  
"What?" Asked Harry, a little hoarse from not using his voice much today.  
  
"I just owled Remus! Dumbledore says when Madam Pomfrey lets you out, you can come and stay with us!" Sirius said happily. Harry grinned widely.  
  
"You mean it?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yep, but we still have one obstacle though.." Sirius said.  
  
"What?" asked Harry, sinking back into the bed, his voice was low.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"She'll never let me leave! We have two weeks until school starts, and she just keeps me bedridden!" Harry explained. Sirius nodded empathetically.  
  
"I know.. What would it take for her to realize that you are well again?" Sirius pondered to Harry. Harry shook his head. "We could just take the easy way out and smuggle you." Sirius suggested thoughtfully. Harry laughed.  
  
"Then we'd both be on the run," Harry pointed out. Sirius chuckled. Then the door swung open quietly, revealing a tall figure, whose long white beard was draping low.  
  
"Hello Professor Dumbledore. I was just telling Harry." Sirius said with a smile. Dumbledore returned it warmly.  
  
"Yes, I have talked to Poppy. She's still convinced you're too weak." Dumbledore said pointedly to Harry. Harry's smile faltered. Sirius stuttered.  
  
"But I swear I'm OK now!" Harry said pleadingly. Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
"Yes, I can see that. She says you're too weak to go just yet, but she'll see what she can do in another couple days. She wants your blood count back up." Dumbledore explained. Harry sunk back even further into his bedspread in relief. Sirius seemed to do the same in the metal chair by Harry's bed.  
  
"That's good news. She means a COUPLE right? I think you remember when she kept Remus in here for a month, and that started with a COUPLE OF DAYS." Sirius recalled. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"The circumstances were different then, and I understand she thinks Harry spends far to much time in here." Dumbledore joked, his old face breaking out in laugh lines. "I must be going. I must inspect the clean up of the hedges from the maze last year. I understand you will be wanting your Quidditch Harry." Dumbledore said.  
  
"You know it sir." Harry assured him. Dumbledore left, closing the door partially, knowing Ron and Hermione would be hurling themselves out of Gryffindor tower and through the door very soon.  
  
Harry's smiled faded when Dumbledore's words sunk in. Maze. Maze means Tri- Wizard Tournament. Tri-Wizard Tournament means Cedric. Cedric means..  
  
Harry shook himself visibly. Don't think about it. Thinking about it only makes you crave the penknife, Harry thought sternly to himself. Sirius looked quizzically at him.  
  
"Something wrong? You do want to go to Remus's with me right?" Sirius asked hopefully. Harry snapped out of his depressed daze.  
  
"YES! Sirius you know I do." Harry assured him, staring into his godfather's tired eyes.  
  
"I think I knew that, but you just look so sad all the time now. Harry is there something you're not telling me?" Sirius questioned. Harry gulped audibly.  
  
"I-I."  
  
"It's OK Harry, you can talk to me." Sirius assured, putting a hand to Harry's shoulders. Harry flinched away, proving to Sirius just how insecure he really was.  
  
"."  
  
"Ok Harry. You don't have to talk about it. We do have to talk about some things, but I know there are things you would like to keep to yourself for now. But you can't hold them in forever. You already have so much weight on your shoulders, eventually, you'll fall over." Sirius said. Harry nodded.  
  
"I wont let that happen. I-it's just whenever someone says even the remotest thing that's linked to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I just freeze, and I.. I don't know how to explain it. I just want to.." Harry stopped himself just in time. He almost said 'I just want to cut'.  
  
"You just want to what?" Sirius inquired.  
  
"Er- Hit something." Harry declared, saving himself.  
  
"That's OK. You CAN hit something, just not me." Sirius said backing away jokingly. Harry mocked a laugh.  
  
"Hit a pillow or something. You'll blow something up if you keep it in. That's the problem with magical kids and anger," Sirius explained. Harry nodded. He knew from experience. When Aunt Marge insulted his parents, he blew her up. Harry's thoughts were interrupted when two figures appeared at the door, one's red hair stood out vibrantly against the black of his robes, and the dullness of the castle walls.  
  
"Hey Ron, Hermione." Harry said quietly.  
  
"Good morning." Hermione said cheerily, practically hopping into the room and fell into her chair.  
  
"What are you so happy for?" Harry asked, a little rudely. It wasn't intentional, but he didn't care.  
  
"Can't I be happy for you?" Hermione asked, trying to read his face. Harry was stoic though; he kept it to himself.  
  
"Yeah mate, Professor Lupin owled us. He told us the news." Ron explained. His happiness that his friend didn't have to live with strangers showed on his face.  
  
"Oh," was all Harry could think to say. He didn't feel like talking. He felt like that often now. He just wanted to sit in the dark, his head in his knees and absorb the silence. Make the soundlessness run through his veins until it stopped his heart. Forever.  
  
"You OK Harry?" Ron asked, sensing his friend's abnormal quietness. Harry nodded, which was a giveaway he was lying to the red haired boy beside him.  
  
"Look.. I'm just tired." Harry said, stopping their gawking. They pulled back their stares.  
  
"Oh, we'll leave you to sleep then." Hermione said. Sirius and Ron nodded. 'Sleep', Harry mused to himself.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
A week passed, a little more than Dumbledore had said. Harry's days were spent thinking, thinking and sitting alone in the dark. He felt safe in the dark. He knew people could probably see him in the very dim light of a small torch on the wall outside of Madam Pomfrey's office. Harry wished it could be pitch black, so no one could see him, and he couldn't see himself. He felt at peace then. He couldn't see anything, and if he concentrated hard enough, he couldn't see Cedric or Voldemort. He wished he was colour blind sometimes. He didn't know why. He assumed that life would be more simple, it would all be in black and white. He didn't know if your view of the world, whether in colour or not, would change your lifestyle and way of thinking. Probably not, but it was nice to think that way.  
  
Right now it was about the darkest it would get, and if he turned to his side, so he was facing the wall, it was black enough. Was black an emotion? Harry felt as if it was. He felt nothing, yet everything terrible at the same time. His face reflected his stage of being, a blank, nonexistent look about him. People would think that he was off thinking of something. He looked as if he had something pressing stuck in his head, one of those thoughts that sticks with you. People hardly ever talk to you when you look like that. They know you're not listening. But Harry was. He was always listening. He found if he looked that was, people didn't bother with him.  
  
Harry had now been able to get out of bed and go to the bathroom by himself. He didn't feel nauseous or the usual sharp pain in his stomach. He was very disappointed when he first was allowed to go whenever he wanted. Nothing sharp. Not the slightest thing. When Sirius used to have to help him walk, his godfather would wait outside, so he didn't really have the chance to look around for something to harm himself with.  
  
Harry became very sneaky during the hours when Madam Pomfrey would be in the great hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He would search the room for anything he could find, anything to tear flesh. Nothing.  
  
"What is wrong with this place? Bloody well child proofed the place." Harry thought aloud irritably. No bloody way there was nothing. He had no nails, he couldn't do it with them, he had bitten them off during the nights in the dark. The went even behind the stubs of his fingers now ragged. They would be good if they were longer. When he dragged them along his wrist and forearm, all he got was a white line that disappeared after a couple seconds. Harry was frantically searching the room. He needed something. Anything.  
  
"You should really stop by more Minerva. I don't think I've had a cup with you since when? Five years! Seems longer!" Madam Pomfrey's loud voice echoed off the walls of the hospital wing. Harry's ears pricked up and he ran back to his bed and sat down on it, trying to look casual. Madam Pomfrey entered, followed closely by Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Mr. Potter! How are you feeling?" asked McGonagall quickly.  
  
"Fine, thank you," Harry said quietly.  
  
"I have brought you your books for next term. Hagrid had gone out of his way to get them for you. I advise you to thank him." McGonagall said sternly. Nodding slightly, Harry accepted the pile of books from his Professor. Then a thought came to mind.  
  
"Wait, you mean Hagrid's back from his work for Dumbledore?" Harry asked quickly.  
  
"Yes. I can't tell you anything about that, so don't ask any more questions." McGonagall warned. Harry nodded again.  
  
"I understand Professor."  
  
"Very well. He looks well Poppy," McGonagall observed. Madam Pomfrey lunged forward.  
  
"His stomach is still tender. He needs rest too!" Madam Pomfrey said pointing out every little thing she could find that was wrong with him. Harry scowled and brushed her away.  
  
"I'll be careful and I'll get lots of sleep. I swear!" Harry pleaded. Madam Pomfrey gave him one last searching stare and nodded slowly. "So, can I leave?"  
  
"After I find some sleeping potions and pain potions." Madam Pomfrey said.  
  
"But it doesn't hurt anymore." Harry said.  
  
"Never mind that! That doesn't mean it's not better!" Madam Pomfrey scolded, striding off to her storage rooms.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
"Harry? What are you doing out of bed? Madam Pomfrey will tan your hide!" said Sirius. He had been plotting to sabotage Snape's quarters, when Harry showed up.  
  
"She let me out. Professor McGonagall insisted." Harry explained, breathing in the air. It actually smelt of air, not the stuffy fumes from disinfecting charms.  
  
"Really?" Sirius asked, giving Harry a suspicious look. "Because if you snuck out, then I pity you. We'll both be on the run and Madam Pomfrey looks worse than the Dementors." Sirius joked. Harry looked blankly at him.  
  
"I'm out OK?" Harry said. Sirius stopped laughing.  
  
"Alright." Sirius said before jumping up slightly. "These came for you," Sirius said holding up a large bag, filled to bursting with letters and packages.  
  
"Why do I have so many letters?" Harry asked.  
  
"What!? Harry! It's your BIRTHDAY! Don't you remember?" Sirius asked putting a hand to Harry's forehead. Harry flinched away.  
  
"Oh." was all Harry could think of to say.  
  
"OH! You're fifteen now! Come on, read you letters!" Sirius said thrusting the bag at his godson. Harry pushed it away slightly.  
  
"Maybe later Sirius."  
  
"Wha-" Sirius stopped himself when he saw the look on Harry's face. "Well, let's go home then. Remus can't wait to see you!" Sirius said.  
  
"How are we getting there?" Harry asked. Please don't let it be Portkey. Please.  
  
"Portkey." Harry's heart stopped. His skin turned to that of a basket ball, goose pimples covering his arms. "Now Dumbledore said you would be reluctant to use it. I know you're afraid of it happening again- the third task I mean- I promise you it's safe. You trust me don't you?" asked Sirius. Harry nodded, but looked uncertain as Sirius pulled out a crisp bag. "Dumbledore makes the weirdest Portkeys. Wish I could do it." Sirius said as he and Harry touched it, sending them flying into darkness. Then he saw he was in a completely different room. No graveyard. No Voldemort.  
  
"Welcome Harry, to the current residence of Moony and Padfoot." Sirius said proudly.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _________  
  
Well, I managed to squeeze this chapter in then. It's short, but you're going to have to deal with it.  
  
Review with this:  
  
What would you say if I brought James Potter back to life?  
  
What it would mean:  
  
More marauder fun!  
  
More Quidditch.  
  
Family history.  
  
L/J flashbacks.  
  
Lily would still be dead though. When James comes back, do all of Harry's problems go away? DEAR SCOTT NO! THEY GET WORSE!  
  
LOL  
  
-blackenedsoul 


	7. Let it Slide

I have decided on the James matter. I will tell you what I've decided; James WILL COME BACK, but you'll just have to wait. I wont turn into JK and make you wait for MONTHS AND MONTHS ON END (growls impatiently) but it wont be for a few more chapters. It wont be corny either, as that was most of your concerns. See the genre? ANGST. NOT CORNY. I promise it wont be:  
  
"Oh Harry, I haven't seen you in years!"  
  
"I love you Dad!"  
  
"I love you too son!" *they hug. *  
  
*GAG ME! *  
  
If you're looking for something funny to read, then Goodbye Malfoy, my new songfic. It's to that Dixie Chicks' song Goodbye Earl. LOL I love that song! *We'll pack a lunch, lock you in the trunk Earl (Malfoy)* It's about Ginny marrying Draco and he beats her, but then Hermione comes to the rescue. Ginny and the trio murder Malfoy and it's all about what happens to his body and stuff. I had a lot of fun writing it.  
  
Lily is dead. Sorry. She's not coming back. James never dies, but Lily did. OK? OK.  
  
I have also devised a plan of changing my name to Valdermerca Mason and move to Cambodia and marry a tailor. No purpose in it, but I haven't witnessed a crime, so the Witness Protection Program is out of the question.  
  
*Swearing present in this chapter. Only like two words.*  
  
Anyhoo, REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!REVIEW!  
  
Starseed  
  
-  
  
Harry's eyes wandered throughout the room. It was a rather dark room; the curtains were drawn; probably because of Sirius. The walls were a mildly alluring colour of maroon, and they had a dark wood panelling; probably oak; halfway up the walls. It was rather large, probably double the size of the Dursleys' small home.  
  
Sirius was smiling at Harry, who smiled back. This was his home.  
  
"I should probably change my intro to "the current residence of Moony, Padfoot and Prongs Jr." what do you think of that, huh?" Sirius asked, ruffling Harry's hair. Harry scowled slightly, but it was covered by his bright smile.  
  
"I'll show you to you're room. Hang on." Sirius paused and looked about the entrance hall in which they were standing in. He looked up at the stair railing above, and then turned back to Harry.  
  
"Where's Moony?" Sirius asked, staring up at the ceiling, as if Lupin was there. "He said he'd be here until the fifteenth of August. Oh well. It's a big house." Sirius said drawing in a deep breath. "MOONY!" Sirius bellowed up the stairs. Harry rubbed his ringing ears.  
  
"Merlin Sirius." Harry said. Several paintings had covered their ears too. Sirius smiled apologetically. Just then, Remus Lupin ran into the room looking flustered and rushed. "Sirius? Harry!" Lupin said rushing down the stairs, tripping on ever other one clumsily as he made his way down. When he reached the bottom he ran up to them, a large grin on his face.  
  
"You smuggled him out?" Lupin asked, grinning even wider at Sirius. Sirius shook his head.  
  
"I was about to, but Madam Pomfrey'd have my guts for garters. McGonagall helped us out." Sirius explained.  
  
"Sorry the place is a little messy Harry." Lupin began, "I haven't been able to get much cleaning done. Dumbledore just asked me to come back as DADA teacher, and I have to make a book list for every year, it's going to come later than the normal Hogwarts letter. Apparently the other DADA teacher Dumbledore wanted ran away." Lupin said.  
  
"You're going to be teaching again this year? That's great!" Harry said smiling. "Wait- the other one ran away?"  
  
"Yes. He heard about what happened to the other ones. One getting possessed by the Dark Lord, one losing their memory, one turning out to be a werewolf (he cringed) and one being an undercover Deatheater. He was scared out of his wits apparently. Poor bloke." Lupin said with a sympathetic look.  
  
"I feel sorry for anyone who is stupid enough to work there. Crazy the lot of them. So many kids.." Sirius said. "Well, shall we show you your room Harry?" Sirius asked changing the topic.  
  
"Sure." Harry said picking up the bag on letters.  
  
"We actually found this house. No one has lived here in centuries apparently. Ghosts or demons -can't remember which- drove family after family out. Well, I figure it's no match for a werewolf and an escaped convict." Lupin said smiling. Sirius scowled.  
  
"This place gives me the creeps though." Sirius said looking uneasily at the walls as the three made their way up the stairs.  
  
"You're just scared."  
  
"I know. I'm afraid to lie in this house. It'll know." Sirius whispered.  
  
"Oh no, you're not going to go all superstitious are you?" Lupin asked, dread in his voice. Sirius shook his head 'no'.  
  
They walked down a long hallway, the walls were now what Harry thought used to be white, but were now a beige-yellow, probably from age. The doors were of a much darker wood than the pine floors, and were covered in dust, giving them a grey tint.  
  
"I've never been in all the rooms. Never needed too." Lupin said. They came to about halfway, when they stopped at the fifth door. Lupin creaked open the door.  
  
"I think this is it.." He said, looking about the room. "Yes. Is this OK?" He asked Harry.  
  
"Yeah, it's great." Harry said. He had expected the room to be dusty, the furniture covered in white tarps of something, but it was clean, the walls a dark green. There was a bed in the corner; made of brass, a wardrobe in another, wood as well. Harry didn't know where to begin unpacking. Lupin had carried up his trunk, which Hagrid had brought from the Dursleys. No one would tell him anything about that, and it unnerved him.  
  
He started by putting his clothes away in the closet, some falling off their hangers as they were oversized; Dudley's clothes. He closed the door and looked at what he had left in his trunk. His invisibility cloak was folded almost neatly on the top, and under it were his Sneakoscope, his penknife and old odds and ends. He stuffed most under his bed, or in his side table drawer. Some books from his past years at Hogwarts and things he had collected from Zonko's Joke Shop were still littering his trunk. His Firebolt was leaning against the wall next to his bed. They his eyes wandered to his bag of letters. He hadn't even remembered it was his birthday, yet his friends did. He reached into the rough textured bag, pulling out one rather thick envelope. He sat on the edge of his bed. He turned it over a few times. It just simply said Harry on the front. He tore it open with what was left of his finger nails, mostly using his fingers. Several pieces of parchment fell out of the white envelope. One was scribbled in a distinctive, messy scrawl that could only be Ron's.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Hey mate! I hope by the time you read this that Madam Pomfrey has let you out. Me and Hermione argued with her for a little bit, but then she pulled me by the ears out of her office. I never liked her. Anyways, Hermione was having a nervy spaz ever since we got back. She's staying with us until school starts. You're probably having fun with Sirius and Professor Lupin. How's your new house?  
  
I hope you're OK Harry. Owl me if you need to talk OK?  
  
-Ron  
  
'Dear God.' Harry thought. 'He's turned into an after school special.' Harry grimaced. Did his friends think he was this boneless, vulnerable child? He's been through hell and back and he was intact. Almost.  
  
Harry didn't bother to look at Fred and George's new order forms. He reached into the bag and pulled out a rather small envelope, a grey tint to it. He ripped the edge, pinching it open because he didn't have any nails. Inside was a single piece of lined loose leaf paper. It was written in a neat, curly script he didn't recognise. It covered both sides of the paper. It looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't get it off the tip of his tongue. He read aloud to himself:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I have been thinking about writing this for a long time. I knew I had to. I have been meaning to ever since you found out about your parents and yourself. I don't know what your reaction to this will be, but I hope you'll understand.  
  
It started when I was about seventeen. Lily had been at Hogwarts for a time then. She had brought home numerous boyfriends, all were the quiet type; wore clean, ironed shirts. They were always polite. Lily was going through her rebellious stage at that time. That summer she started to stay in her room more, always writing to her friends. She wouldn't listen to Mum or Dad then either. That year at spring break, she brought home her new boyfriend. He was different this one. Much like Lily herself. I could see that he loved Lily, but I wouldn't say that out loud. I couldn't help but fall in love with him. It was wrong I knew. I didn't know whether it was the warm brown eyes, the messy black hair, or whether it was just his bright smile that got me. It was your father, Harry.  
  
I resented Lily every moment that she spent with him. I would watch from the kitchen window as they cuddled out by the tree. I knew I'd never get that chance. I loved him. I knew I did. He loved Lily, and Lily loved him.  
  
Then they announced they were getting married. I had never told Lily what I felt. There was no need in my mind. I was determined to get him in the end. By the time they were engaged, they were out of Hogwarts and James it seemed, never left. I started to dread him coming over. I loved him, but it was my sister. I was playing two sides. I didn't know whether to follow my instinct to let them be, or to punch in Lily's eye.  
  
I didn't want to go to the wedding. My mother made me. I think she knew. I was always the odd one, you know. Big nose, long, thin legs. Lily made me a Bridesmaid, even though I knew she didn't want to. I didn't want her to. I wanted to run away, or sit in the back or the church looking out the window at least. No one listened to me. I had to do what was proper.  
  
I had married Vernon by the time she was pregnant with you. I thought Vernon was my shelter you know? He protected me for a while. He didn't always hit me. I think I loved him once.  
  
Anyways Harry, this was the reason I hated my sister for so long. Once Vernon started on me, I felt as if she had put me with him. Since I couldn't have James. I was resentful to you for so many years because when I saw you, I saw James. When I looked into your eyes, I saw Lily. I don't see myself in Dudley, he's just like his father. I wish I would have taken him and run. I'm sorry for feeling that way, but I couldn't take care of you. Not after what I was put through all those years. I'm sorry. Vernon did that to you because I couldn't be there to protect you. It was my job as your aunt, but I couldn't do it.  
  
-Petunia  
  
Harry looked up from the letter in shock. What this true? His brain couldn't register all this new information at one time. He felt flustered, trapped by his own knowledge. He shook his head, and then noticed a post script.  
  
P.S. Harry, could you meet me in London on August 3rd? I need to talk to you. I have attached the address of my friend Aida's house on Oxford Street, I'm staying there. I'll meet you there.  
  
Harry had never heard of Aida, he only knew of Petunia's friends who used to be in her book club a few years back. Petunia had started this to make the family more social. He remembered Ruth, a pudgy lady who always wore a red dress. Cameron, a very wild woman with thick, dark eyebrows. And there was finally Fay, a very beautiful woman, who got in a very nasty row with Petunia. That was the end of the book club.  
  
Harry blinked a couple times, bringing his thoughts back to the letter. He put it in his trunk, under his school robes so he wouldn't have to look at it again. He didn't pick up another letter. He didn't want to know what was in the bag anymore. That letter had put him off. When he was folding his robes back over the letter, a shiny metal rolled out in front of him. His penknife. His began to breath fast.  
  
No. Just no. He couldn't. There was no more Dursleys. He had no problems. No reason to take the knife to his wrist anymore, he thought. He picked it up hastily anyways, bringing it to the comfortable position in front of the skin. He bent his hand back a bit, exposing the green and blue veins under his pale skin.  
  
Just a couple of cuts and it'll be over, the knife seemed to say to him. Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he was about to do. His life would be good now, perfect and he was ruining it. He ran the penknife along his skin, drawing it upwards, stopping once each cut was two inches. He knew they were long. Fuck perfection.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius's voice echoed through the old house. Harry froze. His blood seemed to be made of ice as it pumped through his body. His breathing turned from the slow of his emotional release, to a quick panicked one. He threw the bloody knife back into his trunk and closed it. His pulled down his sleeve, feeling the blood pooling in his palm.  
  
He got up and pressed the black sleeve into his cut, almost stopping the flow of blood for a second. Thank Merlin for dark clothing, Harry thought. He raced down the steps, coming to a halt at the end of the stairs where Sirius was waiting.  
  
"Come on Kiddo, I've still got to give you my present." Sirius said with a smile. Harry looked at his wrist, the sleeve, even though it was black, still had a dark stain. Damn.  
  
"Er-you didn't have to buy me anything. I don't usually celebrate my birthday. What's one more year?" Harry said quickly, stumbling over some words. Sirius eyes him sceptically.  
  
"Harry, these are the best years of you life. You should really enjoy them while you can. The first step is a celebration when one is needed." Sirius said with a smile.  
  
Best years of my life? Ha.  
  
"Come on, I have something to show you." Sirius said pulling Harry into the small living room.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
"Ron shut up!" Hermione said in a hushed, but stern whisper. "And stop elbowing me!"  
  
"Sorry. Ron said. They were behind a couch, waiting for Sirius to bring Harry. He would finally get to celebrate his birthday this year.  
  
They heard the floor boards squeak and they moved out from behind the couch.  
  
"Happy birthday Harry!" Hermione said, launching herself at a very, surprised Harry. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, until he wheezed for her to let go. Ron patted him on the back softly, knowing his friend wasn't big on anything like that, after what he'd been through at the Dursleys'. But there was no telling Hermione that.  
  
"What are you two doing here?" asked Harry, breathless, pulling down his sleeve that had began to stick to him with dried blood.  
  
"It's your birthday! We weren't going to miss it!" Hermione exclaimed, a large grin on her face. Harry threw a fake smile back at her. No one seemed to notice it was forced.  
  
"Here Harry!" Ron said thrusting a mildly large box in his hands. Harry made an 'oomph' sound as it hit his chest. Harry reluctantly opened the enchanted wrapping paper (The Cannons, what did you expect?) and it revealed a new wizard chess set.  
  
"I though the one we usually play with was getting old. They can't mend themselves after a while you know. The queen had a large gash through her middle, and wouldn't play. This set's nicer anyways." Ron said proudly. Harry smiled.  
  
"Thanks Ron." Just let me out of here. Let me crawl into a hole. And die perhaps.  
  
"It took me a while to find a present for you." Hermione explained, getting out a small box. It was thin, only about two inches wide.  
  
"You guys didn't have to buy me anything. Getting away from Madam Pomfrey was good enough." Harry said, making the others chuckle. They didn't notice the seriousness in his voice. No one listen to Potter. Just gawk at me. I don't mind, Harry thought sarcastically. Hermione handed the package to Harry, and watched hopefully as he opened it slowly. Harry undid the ribbon and opened the small box, revealing a black book.  
  
"Don't worry. It's not a textbook. It's a journal." Hermione said, but then added quickly, "I know you've had some, er-problems with diaries in the past, but I promise this isn't possessed." Hermione assured with a smile. Harry even had the nerve to laugh too, though not at the humour of her words, but at her pathetic attempt to make everything go back to normal. Leave it to Hermione to try to fix things.  
  
"Thank you Hermione." Harry said. Then he remembered, turning to Sirius. He was a little afraid of having to explain this in front of Hermione and Ron.  
  
"Sirius, do you think I could get into London on the 3rd? It's kind of important." Harry said. Sirius looked quizzically at him.  
  
"I could get Remus to take you.. But why do you need to go to London?" Sirius asked.  
  
"I-I'll tell you later." Harry said, taking the easy way out.  
  
"OK.." Sirius was still confused, but shook his head, clearing it.  
  
"Ron and Hermione have to go in another hour, Molly wants them home early for supper." Sirius explained. Harry nodded, secretly thankful.  
  
"Yeah. Charlie and Bill are home. Mum wants the family together now, since- " Ron cut himself off, wincing as Hermione stepped on his foot. She looked at him with a glare that surely said "shut up!". Ron was silent. Sirius cleared his throat.  
  
"Why don't you kids go outside. I don't think you've seen the yard yet Harry. Don't leave the property though. It's fenced." Sirius added. The three went through the kitchen, a not surprisingly dark room and went out through the back door. It's hinges were rusty, and they squeaked and cracked. It was painted an aqua colour, not going with the rest of the house, though most of the paint was peeling off.  
  
"The house is certainly dark isn't it?" Ron said.  
  
"I think it's beautiful. It seems to be.. Mysterious.. You know?" said Hermione breathing in the smell of the grass and trees. The sun was behind a patch of dark clouds, making it seem like dusk, even though it was the afternoon.  
  
"It's a bit of a fixer upper." Harry said, closing the door behind him, wincing as the squeaking hurt his ears.  
  
The grass looked like it hadn't been cut for years. It was full of weeds, dandelions mostly. The plump yellow blossoms of the flowers stuck out against the dark green of the grass.  
  
"You haven't been out here yet?" Ron asked, looking around to a small shed in a far corner. Harry guessed it must have been red at some point, but it was mostly just wood, dark from Merlin knows what. The tall grass reached to almost halfway up the shed's outer walls. Part of the door was broken off, but it was dark inside, not permitting anyone to see inside.  
  
"It's certainly a big yard." Hermione said, looking around at the fenced in property. If you could call it that. It was probably once a white picket fence, but it was partially fallen down. The fallen pieces covered by grass.  
  
The trio sat down on a tree stump. It was from a rather large tree so they could all fit on it, their backs to each other. Hermione leaned her head back to it was resting partially on Ron's and partially on Harry's shoulder. She sighed.  
  
"We can get through anything. You guys know that?" Hermione asked, turning her head slightly waiting for a response.  
  
"I know. We've been through so much together, that now I think we could do anything together." Ron said optimistically. Harry didn't say anything. Sure, they could get through anything. But what exactly had THEY been through? Harry seemed to get the swift kick in the ass in every situation. Hermione sighed again, only more slowly.  
  
"I don't know what I'd do without you guys." She said. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? Harry wondered. HAS THE WHOLD WORLD GONE CHEESY?! Harry couldn't take this. He sat up quickly, causing Ron and Hermione to do so. They didn't question him about it.  
  
"We should get back in, Sirius gets worried easily." Harry said, standing up. Ron followed suit and followed Harry into the house. Hermione however, was a little more reluctant but she soon followed. She met them back in the house, in the living room.  
  
"I've got to get you two back to the burrow. Which do you prefer? Floo or Portkey?" Sirius asked, holding up a brown paper bag.  
  
"I prefer floo myself." Ron said, knowing what could happen if it was intercepted. Hermione shrugged.  
  
"It doesn't matter to me. Floo would be fine I guess." She said. Sirius nodded.  
  
"Suit yourself. It's always been Portkeys with me. But what ever floats your boat." Sirius laughed at his own expression. Sirius turned around, and bent reaching into a pail beside the fireplace.  
  
"Goodbye Harry!" Hermione said flinging her arms around his neck once more. Good god. "I'm sorry we couldn't stay longer. I hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday!" Harry smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yeah mate. Mum's really worried. She's been really overprotective lately, but I guess you can't blame her. I'll write to you OK?" Ron said stepping into the fireplace once Hermione had disappeared.  
  
"Sure Ron. See you!" Harry called as Ron too disappeared into the flames. Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Are you OK Harry?" Sirius asked concerned. Harry looked up sharply, pulling his sleeves down even more, so you couldn't see his hand anymore.  
  
"Fine. I'm just tired. Funny. I used to want to get away from Madam Pomfrey because she would make me sleep all the time, but now that she's let me out of her grip all I feel like doing is sleeping." Harry said ironically. Sirius scoffed.  
  
"You're not like other kids. You know that? Lot's of kids your age would be happy to be getting older. One more step towards freedom, you know? I used to think that way. Come to think of it, everyone I knew thought that way." Sirius said thoughtfully. Harry sighed.  
  
"I can't help being different." Harry said in a monotone. Sirius raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, I'll let you sleep once you open me and Remus's present!" Sirius said excitedly.  
  
"Sirius, I get to live with you! That's all I ever wanted and needed! You didn't have to buy me anything." Harry said. Sirius laughed.  
  
"But I did didn't I?" Sirius said. "Moony is busy at the moment. He just can't get away. I'm afraid it's going to be like that for a while. Getting things prepared for next term, and he's got-" Sirius stopped himself.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, intrigued. Sirius didn't respond for a while, but then shook himself.  
  
"Nothing." He said quickly, and turned around before Harry could question him further. "You wait here," Sirius said turning back before running towards the stairs.  
  
Why is my life so complicated? Harry wondered. I love living with Sirius and Professor Lupin, but I can't help feeling annoyed. I don't know why. I just feel like I don't get a say in what goes on anymore. I'm just a kid to them. James's son. That's the only reason why they're keeping me. Otherwise I'd be in a foster home. They wouldn't care about me if I wasn't the only thing left of James and Lily. That's all they see me as. I'm an object to Dumbledore too. He doesn't care. Never did. Ron and Hermione don't care either, or they do to much. Is it just Mrs. Weasley telling them to be nice to me after what happened a couple weeks ago? Harry's thoughts made him depressed. When he was depressed, he was often mad, but now he only felt a deep, piercing sadness that went right through him. It coursed through his veins, like a poison in the bloodstream.  
  
"Harry?" Harry whipped around to see Sirius. "You OK?" STOP ASKING THAT! Harry swallowed.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You were in a trance or something. I've been standing here for a few minutes." Sirius said. That was when Harry noticed a brown, leather bound book in Sirius's hands.  
  
"Sorry. I zone off." Harry explained apologetically.  
  
"This," Sirius held up the worn book, "is me and Moony's gift to you. It took a long time to put this together. Almost. well I don't know how many years, but it was plenty." Sirius said sitting down on the worn, tacky, floral couch. He patted the cushion next to him, inviting Harry to sit next to him. Harry obeyed, and sat down, sinking into the couch slightly.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked. This book, whatever it was had seemed to pull him from his depressed state for a time.  
  
"This, is the Marauder Scrap Book. Compiled by Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail." Sirius said the mast name a little deeper than the rest. "We started it in third year. Before that it was pretty much just me and James. This book could be your key to unlocking the secrets of pranks and the most amazing jokes ever. I warn you, some of these can be very dangerous, and should be performed by someone who knows what they're doing. This holds our finest moments and our darkest hours. Use it wisely." Sirius said this very solemnly, without cracking a smile once. Harry was cracking up at the seriousness of his voice (I know..). Sirius then smiled.  
  
"Thanks Sirius." Harry said breathlessly. This had to be the best birthday present ever. He loved learning about his parents' pasts. He loved it when Sirius told stories about their Marauder days, but he hadn't heard many owing to the fact that they didn't get to see each other much before this. Harry smiled back at Sirius. Maybe he did love him..  
  
"We'll start on page one. This prank was one of our best because it had the three basic essentials for a great prank." Sirius explained.  
  
"And those are?" Harry asked.  
  
"Snape, a love potion, and lots of people watching." Sirius said with a laugh. He opened the brown, leather bound book to the first page.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Phew! OK, I have put my website up! If I haven't updated in a while, then the reason is on there. I am now working on how I'm going to do the H/Hr part of it. I have figured out how I am going to bring James back. It isn't clichéd, and I haven't seen it done before. This took me a while to write, so I hope you like it.  
  
Michy: I actually don't mind anon reviews, but I read people's bios and stories if they're registered.  
  
Gavin: I hope it goes well too. A lot of school do that play for some reason.  
  
Italian Rockstar: I plan on making Sirius a VERY big character. I love Sirius and Harry bonding moments. LOL.  
  
Shawna Mackenzie: I wasn't about to kill off Harry in chapter 2!  
  
Mary Wynn: I know I'm cruel to be doing that, but I wanted to be original.  
  
Anon. HP fan: I hope you read the rest. Lots of twists and cliff hangers ahead just to warn you.  
  
Cat: Sorry, I do it on Wed. But I do have a chapter anyways!  
  
Alexia: I plan on bringing him back, but I still need more feedback.  
  
MyImmortal: It's not a spell! Lord of the ringing? Er.. I'll try.. Anyways, Hermione and Harry will get together, but I have to build up to it. It can't just be:  
  
"Harry I have something I need to tell you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
Oh my god! Me too!"  
  
Sorry for that but I was just demonstrating my point.  
  
Amileerose: Thanks! Bringing James back will put a twist on the story. Jealousy people!  
  
Emu Kid: I know, I know. I don't write cheesy fatherly stuff most of the time. James is in for a shock I tell you.  
  
Coolone007: He will be angry, but so will James and Sirius. It will be complicated.  
  
Alexial: It will be interesting, I just hope you all like the way I di it.  
  
Meg: He can't be meant to be dead, when he never died. Dun Dun DUN!  
  
Fangboy: Lily is dead. ( but yes, it is H/Hr.  
  
Ashley: Thank you!  
  
Anyways, thanks for the reviews. TTFN!  
  
Blackenedsoul. 


	8. When I Find Out What Went On

A hearty hello to all of my readers. I'm so terribly sorry that I didn't update sooner, but I had computer trouble again. Here's a tip to all of you: NEVER BUY A COMPUTER FROM FUTURE SHOP. They scam you! They rip you off SOOOOO bad! Anyways, it was the stupid keyboard, but I got a new and better one. I am also surprised at the level of crappiness in my writing, which means I will be working hard to improve it. Anyways, I hope you like how I am going to put James in, who should be in the next chapter, so look forward to it, and review.

Myimmortal: Er, you scared me, I read you first review first, since I read them through my e-mail, and I'm like: "I killed Petunia?!" I was panicking that I ruined the plot with the letter, but then I read your follow-up and, let's just say I started breathing again. Nope, no one knows James is alive, well except someone…

Erin Longbottom: Thanks. I am improving my writing style with more detail and emotions though. Sorry you had to wait.

Fizzy: Yeah, you know the saying it'll get worse before it gets better? Yeah, you get it.

Someone Reading: I know. H/H would put a huge twist in JK's stories. I hope she doesn't do R/H. It might be a little preteen crush thing. Iunno. 

Isaac: I've never seen your name spelled that way, if that IS your real name. No, someone complained Crimson Tears was too violent, and this story is PG.

Spiderwoman: I was hyper when I wrote that. 

Spongebob: I know! Our Lady Peace is the best band in the world. Starseed isn't my favourite song, but it's cool.

Mihoshe: Thanks! I tried.

Jessi: When James comes back, expect lots of Marauder action. 

Mat: I LOVE Harry-cutter stories. Angst ridden stories are the best.

Garcia Lyn: No it won't be. I try to make all my fiction unique, so I wont make it just like any of my other ones. This will probably be the most suspenseful.

Ragan: I'm thankful for all the reviews I get, but I do wish there were more.

Coolone007: It wasn't that deep! Don't worry.

Choco1207: He won't tell people because he thinks he can handle it on his own. Anyways, it wouldn't work if it was like:

"Sirius I'm suicidal and I can't take it!"

"I'll solve all of your problems."

So yeah, you see where I'm coming from.

Lela Potter: Thanks!

Athena73: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy my stories.

|Starseed| When I Find Out What Went On|

__

To set yourself apart, you punish your body, mutilate it; it is a prison and, ultimately, you want to set yourself free of it. Art becomes, in part, a kind of vandalism of the body; a wound, a scar, a kind of savage beauty that connects you to the others of your desperate tribe who are similarly marked. Your willingness to damage yourself offers proof of your commitment and even consolation: No one can ever treat you worse than you are willing to treat yourself. You conquer enemies by internalizing them and, in your willingness to destroy yourself, you release yourself from their clutches.

(excerpted from Rolling Stone: Images of Rock and Roll, Sid Vicious)

Harry walked along the dark hallway, which twisted, to the door to his room. The hardwood felt cold on his bare, clammy feet. He walked slowly, yet swiftly along the floor, his heels hitting the ground before the pads on the undersides of his toes, making a light thumping noise. 

When he reached his door, he saw the light of a few candles through the cracks in the door before opening it. The wind rushed past his face with the force of opening the door, making small bits of his hair tickle the side of his face. The antique smell of his room filled his nose as he stepped into the dimly lit room. Clutched in his hands were his new journal, the thick leather sticking to his fingers and the new chess set, which Harry had put back in the box so he could carry it easier. He set the chess set down on his dresser, but held the journal in his hands, examining it. He flipped to the first page. He took out a quill and a bottle of ink from his school trunk, closing it afterward. He dipped the quill and set it to the page.

__

Dear Journal,

I feel better calling you a journal rather than a diary. Diaries are for girls right? I don't know why Hermione gave you to me. Whether it was because she thinks I have issues, or just rather that I'm intelligent and could put all my brilliant thoughts to paper I don't know, but I sincerely doubt she thinks I'm intelligent, considering she's the top student in our year. I don't even know why I'm writing in you. It's probably because I can tell you things that I can't say to anyone. Things that would make my life miserable, shameful and unbearable if were released into the world. I sometimes think my mind is made of boxes, and one day my mind will get too crowded with boxes, things I keep to myself, and I'll just explode, opening all my boxes for the world to see. I hope that by writing in this, that I can prolong my mental isolation, and keep my secrets. Secrets are secrets right? I know you can't answer, but I a way I like that. You just listen. I haven't told you really a think yet, and yet you didn't die of boredom. 

Ever since I can remember the sun didn't shine through my windows. That was what I hated. I didn't know what time of day it was, or when the moon was out. I loved the moon, and even named a white mouse that came into my room from a crack in the wall Luna. Aunt Petunia killed her once she got so hungry she needed to explore the house. I didn't see it, as I was kept in the cupboard, but I heard her screaming: "A mouse! Vernon!" and then I heard Vernon stomping on her. Luna was my best friend for two days. Two days I knew her. I didn't have Hedwig then though.

I feel no one understands me. Actually, no one does, it isn't just a feeling. I once said to Sirius: "You looked, but didn't see." but he didn't understand. I felt like a fool. Would Dumbledore understand? Would he read between the lines and see that I'm not happy? That I don't like being me? That I can't take it much more? No. I don't think he would. I'm the boy who lived. Golden boy. Everyone expects there to be a smile plastered on my face, but that's what it is, plastered. It's not real. 

I can't write anymore. I have to go to sleep, if I get any, but I have to try. 

-Harry [July 31 95]

Harry closed the book, the spine of it stretching. He sighed and changed into his pyjamas and lay on his bed. He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. It was Stucco, painted white, and had a few cobwebs in the corners. He sighed again and closed his eyes. He didn't want to, but he knew he would be completely horrible in the morning if he didn't at least try. His dreams started before he even knew he was asleep.

Harry woke with a start, jumping with a gasp. He sat for a moment, breathing heavily, and clutching his blankets to him tightly. He settled back down to the mattress even before he had caught his breath completely. His eyes frantically searched the room, looking for any signs that his dream had been real. When he found nothing, he shook himself a little and tried to calm down. He only just noticed the rain gently drumming on the window glass on the wall facing the foot of his bed. He knew his dream was over, and even though he couldn't remember any of it, he was still trembling with suppressed fright. Harry tried to quiet his heart pounding against his chest as he wearily closed his eyes. 

Harry stirred later than he normally did, but was in no hurry to get out of bed. He was enjoying the peaceful aura his room seemed to hold in the morning. The thin drapes did nothing to block out the radiant light of the morning sun as it peeked over the horizon. Harry blinked a couple of times, adjusting his eyes to the light instead of the darkness of behind his eyelids. 

"Kid! You up _yet_?" 

Harry perked up when he heard Sirius's shout from down stairs. He cleared his throat, which was a little parched and scratchy from hour without much moisture. He swung his feet around the side of the bed and stood on morning shaky feet. He dressed, pulling on his black trousers and black knitted jumper. He walked as fast as his legs would take him. They still felt oddly separate from the rest of his body, as they usually did in the morning. He rounded the bend and carefully turned right; last night he turned left and got completely lost. His hair fell into his eyes as he walked, but he didn't fix it; he liked it that way; hiding his face. His aunt would always pester him to put it behind his ears on the odd occasion in which they would take him out. Sirius was in the kitchen when Harry arrived, but he couldn't see Remus.

"Did Professor Lupin go out?" Harry asked, taking a seat at the dark oak table opposite Sirius. His godfather gave him a blank stare before jumping to the question. 

"Oh! You mean Remus! Harry, you can call him Remus until school starts, you know. I don't know why he lets you lot call him "_Professor Lupin"." _Sirius added in a high voice, mocking his friend. Harry smiled, forcing his lips to bend slightly. "Anyways, he had to leave early. You'll see him at school I'm sure though." Sirius assured, standing up abruptly. 

"Madam Pomfrey wants you to come to Hogwarts tomorrow so she can check that the um.. _wound _healed correctly. Dumbledore just owled me for her." Sirius explained, taking one last swing of his pumpkin juice before clearing his throat. 

"I have to nip out for a minute. I would take you with me, but it's work for Dumbledore; you know…secret. Sorry." Sirius apologized. 

"It's no problem." Harry said shortly. Sirius smiled thankfully.

"I should be back around five. Sorry. It's a long…er…well, lets just say it's long." Sirius said. "Bye!" He yelled as he closed the door. Harry sighed. He had the house to himself; true, but he felt…alone. Harry smacked himself. _You feel alone, because you ARE alone, dumbass. _He scolded himself harshly. 

Harry decided to go back up to his own room. He for once didn't feel like exploring the house. Once again he felt drawn to the diary and began to write. 

__

Dear Journal,

I feel like I'm trapped atop a tower, and I'm waiting for someone to save me. Sounds corny? It's not. If I was dead; I'd still be saved; I guess. I know you don't understand that, or maybe you do, I'll never know. You can't tell me. In a way I'm happy for that. You can't disagree with me and tell me that I'm all wrong. That my thoughts are stupid or ludicrous. Maybe someday I'll be happy and I won't need you, or the knife. Yes, I've never told you about that have I? Maybe I should? Then again, maybe I shouldn't. Should I tell you about the time I got into Aunt Petunia's medicine cabinet and took all the Tylenol I could find? About the hours I spent forcing those up again? No, then again, maybe I shouldn't. 

Here I go, reminiscing about all the horrible things I wish I could forget, but can't. Just thinking about them makes my stomach sink and twist. I have to go before I dig myself a metaphorical hole and climb in. 

-Harry [August 1 95]

Harry stuffed the leather book under his pillow. He sat on his still unmade bed. The already wrinkled white sheets ruffled even more when Harry sat down. He sighed. He wanted the knife so bad it hurt, but he resisted the temptation by grinding his teeth and fisting the covers. It had never been this strong before; never in all the years this had been going on. It was wrong and would have to stop now. _If it's wrong…how come it feels so right? _Harry now realized he wasn't fisting the sheets with one hand, and was instead digging his nails deeply into his palm. He drew away and slowly drew his nails from the blistered, bleeding sores in his hand. He hissed when the sting of wiping the blood off hit him. _I just found a substitute for the knife! How could I have been so stupid! Why do I do this? Why does it work?_ Harry was full of questions for himself. He leaned back and hit his head hard against the wall. _Wrecking every beautiful day, eh Potter? _Harry thought glancing at the rainy sky outside his window. It was perfect, and he ruined it; all of it.

Harry picked up his thoughts, which in his mind had all fallen to the floor. He walked swiftly down the stairs and out the back door. His eyes were watering with tears but he held them back. He smiled. The rain was pouring harder than he had originally thought. It tickled his neck as it dripped down from his hair and face. His hair was soaked in a matter of minutes, and soon water was coming off of his face in drops from his nose and chin; collecting from all the droplets on his face. His clothes were wet, and he was getting cold, but he didn't care. The rain was washing away the shame he had just brought upon himself. He could just beat the hell out of himself. _WHY DID I DO THAT? I'M GOING TO START IT ALL OVER AGAIN!_

He growled in frustration and hit his hand against the side of the house. He was so angry, at himself and just humanity in general. 

__

Hoot

Harry looked up. Even though trapped tears half blinded him, he still managed to see his snowy white owl perched up in the tree. Harry hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"Hey Hedwig." Harry said thickly. Hedwig hooted again, and flew down from her perch to Harry's shoulder. She cocked her head to the side, seeing his teary eyes. "I'm okay. It's nothing really." Harry said. He stroked her feathers lightly. 

"You've been out for a while, want to go inside?" Harry asked, and Hedwig fluttered off his shoulder and to the door, landing on the ground. "Okay, hold on." Harry said, sliding open the door, and letting his bird flutter inside. Harry stopped in the kitchen to grab some bread for her, and then made his way up to his room, Hedwig nipping hungrily at his fingers trying to grab the bread. 

Hedwig gobbled her food fast, gulping it back. She nudged a letter toward Harry, bumping his elbow. 

"Got a letter? Thanks." Harry said, before ripping it open. It was in Ron's messy printing.

__

Harry,

What's up mate? I had to owl you! Not only did dad get tickets for the quid ditch cup, but he bought me a broom! Says he's been saving it up for years! A Hajari! It's almost as good as your firebolt! He says he wants me to be keeper, and that he knew I was born to do it. I hope I make it. It'll be horrible if I didn't. 

Hermione went off to Bulgaria. Running off with that Krum bloke again, while you and me are stuck at home, separated for the summer. Mum was trying to wean Dumbledore, but he wouldn't agree. I guess this means more time for you and Sirius right? Are you having a good time? Write me back!

-Ron

Harry took out his parchment, quill and his bottle of ink from his trunk, which was yet to be unpacked. 

__

Ron, 

__

Hey, I'm having fun here, but Remus left early, and Sirius is out somewhere. I get the house to myself, so I guess that's an upside. That's great about the broom! I can't wait to fly with you!

I'm sure Hermione will have fun in Bulgaria. I think you're just jealous that she gets to spend the summer with a famous Quidditch player! 

Anyways, I hope you have fun during your summer!. 

-Harry

Harry didn't like keeping things from his friends. He didn't like lying to them either. Harry felt like Harry Potter was his alter-ego. Harry Potter was the happy go lucky golden boy with nothing to worry about in life. No problems. Nothing any fifteen-year-old couldn't handle. But, Harry felt as if there was another part of him, just Harry, who was the lost, confused and frustrated teenager. He had no control over them it seemed, as Harry Potter would always show up when he needed to talk to his friends or talk to Sirius. It wasn't a split personality, more like a split soul. _Either that or I'm crazy._

Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to sooth his confusion and frustration. Hedwig hooted loudly, making Harry jump. She gave him a questioning glance. It was now getting late, it seemed he had been reading and rereading the letters for a long time now.

"Don't scare me like that girl." Harry breathed. He got up, brushing her feathers between his fingers as he passed. He went for the bathroom, pausing to collect a towel and bathrobe and putting them under his arm before continuing. When he got to the bathroom, he lay the robe on the toilet, and put the towel on the empty rack that hung from the wall. The towels were of a slightly unpleasant, scratchy material, and had obviously been used many times. Harry didn't care that his living conditions weren't first class. He didn't care that the house was falling apart, or that it was sinking slightly in the uneasy foundation, mostly on the left side. Lupin couldn't afford much and Sirius had little money at all. Money was tight, but Harry didn't care. He had offered some of his money from Gringotts but Remus politely refused. Messy and broken or not, the house was theirs, and that was all that mattered.

Harry turned the one knob tap on the bathtub to the left, so it was three quarters of the way to the hot, but not scalding. He put his hands under the water to test it first, letting the warm water flow over his chilly, clammy hands. The tap always spluttered a little before it started a steady flow. Once he could feel the temperature of the water properly, he turned it slightly closer to the side labelled 'hot'. He pulled up the metal screw, making it splutter until the water had gone to the shower head. It sprinkled down softly, as it couldn't manage a steady, hard flow. Harry pulled the shower curtain, undressed himself and stepped into the shower. Harry immediately felt the hot water on his back and sighed. The rain hadn't washed it all away, and neither did the shower. _I'm out of ideas now.._

After washing his hair, Harry got out, and dressed, wrapping himself in the robe just as he heard Sirius come in. When Harry went to the bottom of the stairs, expecting to see Sirius with a smile, or at least his usual face. Instead he saw him with a bleeding lip, covered in a brown, strong smelling liquid and breathing harshly. 

"Sirius? What happened?" Harry could just smell the alcohol coming from his breath, even though he was a few feet away. Harry hadn't see Sirius often, and certainly not drunk. Sirius swayed on the spot a little and Harry rushed to his side, preparing to help him to the couch. Sirius swatted Harry away, and clutched his eye. 

"Sirius! What happened to you? Huh?" Harry added after several minutes of not getting an answer. Sirius groaned.

"Nothing. Dumbledore told me some… s-stuff. Went out for.. a drink with disguising charms…and this guy …was talking cheap to me s-so I s-socked him." Sirius slurred. 

"Then you started it right?" Harry asked. 

"No! He was.. then I was.. Then we.. You see?" Sirius asked, closing his eyes, and didn't respond when Harry pressed an ice cube in a cloth to his lower lip. 

"No Sirius, I don't see. Why don't you sleep here?" Harry asked, patting the blanket, preparing to cover Sirius with it. He wasn't expecting to be pushed backwards roughly.

"I think you're forgetting I run this house!" Sirius yelled, though still massaging his temples. Harry stood shocked for a moment. 

"I wasn't questioning your authority Padfoot." Harry assured him, and jumped when Sirius let out an angry snarl.

"Don't call me that! James gave me that name, and look what happened to him.. Look at what he left behind. His only son.. He's be rolling over in his grave if he could see you now. What you did to that Diggory boy?" Sirius said shaking his head in shame. Harry was fuming. _He's drunk. He doesn't mean it._ Harry assured himself, but couldn't help his inevitable outburst.

"You shut up about Cedric! You're a horrible drunk Sirius!" Harry said, throwing the blanket roughly over Sirius, while fighting back tears. Sirius grabbed his wrist when he was about to sprint up the stairs.

__

"Look what you did boy! Now your Aunt has to clean the blood off the floor!" 

Kick. 

"You're pathetic!"

Another kick.

"A disgrace to this family."

Vernon's belt seemed to have a mind of it's own as it came down hard on Harry's back, which was held there by two strong hands. The metal buckle came down once, making Harry scream as it tore the flesh deeply. 

Harry seemed to be petrified with fear. Sirius was going to hurt him. _He's going to hurt me like Uncle Vernon did! It's all been lies! All of it! He doesn't care about me! _A thousand and one thoughts were going through Harry's head, but they all stopped abruptly when Harry felt Sirius's hand slip limply from the tight hold on his wrist. Harry looked down at the unconscious form of Sirius. Harry let out a strangled gasp before breaking down into tears. He sank down on the opposite couch. He wanted to leave the room so much but knew he couldn't. He could choke on vomit during the night and die, and Harry wasn't going to see that happen. 

__

Even if he is just another Vernon, I have to do the responsible thing and wait with him until morning. Harry thought, wanting nothing more than to just run. Run away. Anywhere. _Should I call Remus? Damn. I don't know how to reach him. Ron? Hermione? They can't do anything. I have no one that can help me! I have to stay with him! _Harry thought in a bitter panic. Harry was breathing fast, hyperventilating. His head was spinning but he got it under control. Sirius wasn't going to wake up any time soon. Harry looked down at his wrist, which had gone a red-pink colour and was blotchy on the skin Sirius hadn't put in his death grip. Harry clutched it to himself, not out of pain, but out of fear. Not fear, raw terror. 

Sunlight filtered into the small living room, highlighting the two prone figures on couches. One with a bloody cloth pressed to his swollen lip, and one huddled on the latter shaking. The younger jumped up and looked about the room with his eyes wide and his breath coming in short gasps. His breath quickened even more when he saw the other figure and he jumped up.

Harry hadn't wanted to wake up here and had been hoping it was just a dream. Just some horrible fictional dream that meant nothing. Then he saw Sirius, and his still bright red wrist. Sirius was asleep, Harry could tell from the steady breathing and still form. Harry didn't even think before he ran from the room. He just ran straight to his bedroom, and locked and barricaded the door with his dresser.

__

What am I going to do? Sirius will wake up soon. He won't spend long throwing up before he comes up here for me.. I'm dead. So dead. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING AGAIN? WHY DOES SIRIUS WANT TO HURT ME? HAS THIS ALL BEEN A LIE? THE NEW LIFE? THE CHANCE TO START OVER? 

With that thought Harry slid down his bedroom wall and cried. He cried harder than he had ever cried before, burying his head in his arms and between his knees that were drawn up to his chest. _I can't stay here. Sirius will do what Vernon did! Worse! _ Harry searched frantically for a pen. Hedwig, who had been watching him the whole time through the bars of her cage. Nudged one to him with her talon poking out from between the bars. Harry smiled and sniffed, wiping back his tears angrily. Harry found some parchment next and wrote to the first person he thought of.

__

Ron, 

You said to me once you would help me with anything. Can you help me? I really need you to pick me up, or send me floo powder, no questions asked. Please Ron.

-Harry

Half an hour passed and Harry was relieved to see Sirius had not gotten up. His eyes were sticky and some eyelashes had fallen out from wiping away his tears a little too harshly. 

__

Bang.

Harry jumped. It was Sirius. He was trying to get in. _He's going to kill me!_

Bang.

Harry froze in terror. His stomach felt cold with all the nerves running through it unpleasantly. 

"_Harry! Unlock the door!" _Harry stopped breathing all together now. That didn't fit. It wasn't Sirius.

"Harry it's me! I can hear you in there! I've searched every where else!" Ron's voice came through the door. 

"Ron?" 

"Yeah! Just open the door!"

Harry moved his dresser and unlocked the door slowly. He half expected to see Sirius in the doorway, but when he saw his redheaded friend, he couldn't have been more relieved.

"You're OK! Harry I thought something terrible happened again!" Ron grabbed his friend and pulled him into a hug. "Mum's probably got an ulcer!" Ron said, and let go of Harry who was looking uneasy with the contact. "You alright mate? You're _not_ hurt are you?" Ron asked searching his friend's body for any wounds. Harry pushed him away.

"I-it's nothing. I can't stay here. I'm sorry it's so short notice but I can't stay here." Harry pleaded frantically.

"Harry! It's OK! Where's Sirius? Why can't you stay here?" Ron stopped the flow of questions when he read Harry's blank stare. "Oh.. Right. No questions. I wont ask any Harry. Come on. Mum'll let you stay with us." Ron assured his panicked friend. "I flooed over here, and we can go that way but you have to calm down! I don't know what happened, and I'll tell you I'm pissed you don't want me to ask questions, but I respect that OK? You're alright." Ron assured patting his friend on the back. Harry nodded and followed Ron down the stairs, careful to use the fireplace in the den rather than the living room, where Sirius was. 

"The burrow!" Harry shouted, after Ron had disappeared into the flames. Harry followed behind him, silently hoping this would all be over soon. Everything.

There you go the new chapter. I was on a school trip to Ottawa, and just got back so I couldn't post. Terribly sorry about that. I'm sorry I had to make Sirius bad, but it wasn't him. Maybe it was the alcohol? Voldemort?

WRITE YOUR THOERIES IN THE REVIEW BOX IF YOU WANT. I'M INTERESTED TO HEAR WHAT YOU THINK MIGHT HAPPEN. 

I'm sorry if that chapter was a little rushed at the end, but hey, it's ;ate gimme a break.


	9. I'll Bring it Back

Over a hundred reviews. Hurrah! Anyhoo, I would like to dedicate this chapter to vixis, my 100th reviewer. I love you all, but you didn't review on a lucky number. I will dedicate a chapter to you if you review on a 100 or a 150 number. Get it? OK. 

Shoot the Moon Readers

The story is over, sorry but I didn't want to ruin WEWP with a cheesy sequel. Sorry again.

Anyone for a New Fic?

I am writing an AU fic, but the only AU thing about it is that L/J are alive. Harry was born with a disorder that weakened his immune system greatly, making him sick all the time. Interested? Tell me. BTW the fic is called MAYBE TOMORROW.

Want me to Shut Up?

OK.

Duke-of-Argyle: Is this your first time reviewing? That's not _exactly _what I have plans for in the story…

Ides of March: More Reviews? I would love to have more reviews. I don't know how neutral gets so many.

Jaded1: Thanks for the constructive criticism, no one has done that yet for some reason. I'm glad you like the journal idea, and you can bet it will become a bigger part in the story. The whole Remus thing at Hogwarts will be explained in this chapter. I hope you like the starter quote in this chapter too. Keep reviewing!

Coolone007: Yes, my uncle and my grandfather had an alcohol problem, and my uncle (his name is Ron lol!) attempted to kill his ex-girlfriend. Scary. I'm glad he now lives in a motel in Nova Scotia.

MostEvilKitten: Thanks!

Vixis: Well, you'll just have to see whether the Weasleys find out wont you?

Rubberduckie713:I'm sick! Gimme a break.

Lela Potter: is this soon enough?

Rofro05: Yeah, I will surprise you a lot in this story.

Mystic Queen: More or less Petunia is out of the story. I can't have her running about fawning over James now can I?

Whatever: Sirius was never really bad, you'll find out in this chapter though.

Freedom Monkey: I really like writing that flashback.

Bah Bah Black Sheep: I knew someone would hate what I did to Sirius. Don't jump to conclusions though. :P BTW, have you ever had an alcoholic family member? It can change people more than you may think, so don't be naive on this matter. My first flame! Hurray! 

Disclaimer: Own nothing. There, I admit it. I have failed. 

|Starseed| I'll Bring it Back|

__

…Anger is turned against the self - and the body is the most visible and most accessible manifestation of the self. In this view, the body is a trap, just like the other traps a bankrupt society sets in your path, and the pleasures of the body are a bribe, a means society exploits to try to make you conform, to become indistinguishable from everyone else.

[Rolling Stone: Images of Rock and Roll, Sid Vicious]

The heat from the large stone fireplace smoothed Harry's once goose pimpled arms. The dim light from it bounced along the partially bricked walls of the Burrow. The light illuminated the small clustered room, creating mysterious shadows throughout the room. 

Harry sat with his arms wrapped around his torso, previously it was to keep him warm, but now it was just comfortable. He didn't have his glasses on, but he didn't care. Sure, he bumped into everything, but he wasn't going to go all the way up the stairs and into Ron's room to get them.

When Harry had arrived at the burrow, Mrs. Weasley had enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, and then began asking _what brings you here Harry? It's a pleasure to have you! Why are you shaking?_ Harry, at that time had forgotten that he was even shaking, but could still so nothing about it. While his body involuntarily shook, Harry was ushered up to Ron's room. Ron continually threw questioning looks at Harry, but didn't ask. Harry hadn't moved from the room, while Ron was trying to keep his brothers and sister out of the room; poking his head through the door yelling at them. Harry hadn't left the room until two o'clock in the morning, when he was sure even Fred and George were asleep. 

Harry sighed, his lungs even felt tired and his eyelids drooped lazily. He slouched over, resting his elbows on his knees, while they were still wrapped around his torso. He was glad he couldn't see his wrist, which he was sure was still red, and would probably be black and blue in the morning. He looked to the floor; stood up, and walked lazily back to Ron's room. 

Ron was still fast asleep, snoring loudly and covered completely by his blankets. Only a small speck of Ron's flaming red hair was visible peaking out from under the covers. Harry crept past him almost silently, tip-toeing to the cot next to Ron's bed. Harry lay down, pulling the covers up to his chin and snuggling down into the slightly uncomfortable mattress. Ron's snores were nothing compared to Neville's, but it was still distracting.

The morning light illuminated the damp looking sky, shining light on the little drops of dew on the leaves of the trees and flowers. A slight breeze through the open window caused Harry to stir before finally waking up. The air felt cold on his bare arms, but it felt refreshing in the morning. Harry sat up, stretching his arms above his head. For a moment he forgot why he was at the burrow but after a moment of searching his memory, he realized why he was there and why he felt so horrible. Harry stood up on morning-shaky-feet, and left the room quietly, as not to wake Ron, who was sleeping silently this time, not a snore emitting from him as he slept long into the afternoon.

"Harry dear, do mind grabbing me some of that sour dough loaf?" Mrs. Weasley asked, pointing to a large loaf of bread sitting on the counter.

"No problem Mrs. Weasley." Harry said politely, fetching the loaf and handing it to Molly. She smiled at him and then turned to her daughter. Harry had come down to the kitchen and found Ginny and Mrs. Weasley baking, and didn't want to be rude when they asked for help. 

"Is Ron _still _sleeping? Why don't you go and wake him Harry, it's nearly lunch." Mrs. Weasley said glancing at the clock. She tutted, muttering things about laziness under her breath as she helped Ginny lift a pot of steaming noodles that was obviously to heavy for her. 

Harry climbed the flight of stairs that twisted like smoke up the house. Harry arrived at Ron's door and opened it a crack before stepping in fully. Ron was still sleeping, but now he was half falling off the bed and in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. Harry stepped closer and shook Ron lightly, grabbing him on the shoulder. Ron groaned and opened his eyes blearily, gazing up at Harry's blurry figure looming over his like a ghostly shadow in the afternoon sun. Harry laughed.

"Merlin Ron, you look at me like Vol- erm… You-Know-Who." Harry corrected himself, remembering Ron's uneasiness with the proper name. Ron groaned and sat up, rubbed his eyes lazily and looked at Harry with clearer vision.

"Geez, 'Arry, you up already?" Ron asked, seeming a little more aware of his surroundings. He climbed out of bed and stumbled to his closet.

"Yeah. It's nearly past lunch; your Mum is keeping it for you. I think your brothers are getting rowdy waiting though, so you better hurry up." Harry said hearing the loud voices downstairs. Ron scoffed and dressed quickly. He gave Harry a questioning glance.

"You're not getting dressed?" 

"Er- I didn't bring anything when I came here… remember?" Harry reminded him.

"Oh, do you want to go back to get your trunk?" Ron asked casually, not expecting the response he would get.

"NO! Er- I mean…" Harry began.

"Oh… right. Well if it's some big thing that you can't go back…" Ron said rolling his eyes, but trying to hide it from Harry, who scowled at him, "then you can borrow some of my clothes. Mind you, they may be a bit big on you…"

Ron was right, the pants that were too short on Ron turned out to be rather long on Harry. They dragged when he walked and were baggy as well, considering Harry was skinny for his age. They weren't even close to being as bad as Dudley's hand-me-downs though.

"The jumper may be a bit itchy, but it's the smallest thing I have mate." Ron said, laughing as Harry scratched his arms obsessively. 

"They're fine, thanks Ron." Harry said, turning to lead Ron down to the kitchen but Ron's voice stopped him.

"Harry?" 

"Yeah?" Harry responded, turning back.

"Are you ever going to tell me why you can't go back to Sirius and Lupin's?" Ron asked, a little guilty at his own curiosity. "I'm not making you tell me or anything…but…" Ron stopped abruptly.

"Later Ron. Please not now." Harry said walking from the room before Ron could answer. The kitchen was much more crowded now, than what he had left. The twins and Percy had come down, the twins catching toast as it flew out of the rusty, magical toaster that toasted the bread in less than a minute. Percy was sitting at the table, _Daily Prophet_ in hand, and looking rather smug. Fred leaned close to Harry and whispered in his ear.

"Percy was mentioned in the paper today, looking for a new job, and some guy at the ministry gave honourable mention. If he tries to talk to you about it, get an excuse _fast._" Fred warned. Harry nodded with a grin. 

"Morning kids, Molly," Arthur Weasley said, striding into the room, patting Percy on the back and kissing his wife on the cheek. She returned it, then handed him a plate of steaming sausages.

"Please Mum, no PDA in the kitchen. There's food in here." George said with a grimace. Molly narrowed her eyes and approached him slowly. George sank low in his chair, knowing a lecture was coming on. 

"Be happy we love each other young man." Molly said, before grinning. George looked confused for a minute, but grinned nonetheless.

"Here Harry, Ron, sit here boys." Molly said, pulling out tow chairs next to each other. Harry and Ron took them, and began helping themselves to sausage and toast. 

"Did I get any owls mother?" said Percy. Harry could just see his ego growing bigger. Molly looked up from ladling porridge into Arthur's bowl.

"No, not yet dear." Molly said, trying to sound as if the flood of job offers was yet to come. Percy looked a little downcast, but held his head high.

"Percy, people aren't going to see your face in the paper and jump to the occasion and hire you on the spot." Fred said. 

"Well at least I have a plan for my future!" Percy shot back.

"You're unemployed!" 

"So are you!" 

"I'm in school!" Fred said silencing Percy. 

"Well at least I did well on my OWLs. Very well actually. Right mother?" Percy asked, turning to his mother.

"Percy stop it!" Molly scolded.

"I'm surprised you two even passed. What did they do? Change the questions to true and false?" Percy asked slyly. Arthur banged his fist on the table, making everyone jump. He looked to Percy.

"Percy, you have to stop provoking fights. It's not what someone your age should be doing. You know that." Arthur said sternly. Percy huffed and stood up, sending his chair back a few feet. 

"I'm staying at Penny's. You lot obviously don't want me here." Percy said, and the distant sound o Percy putting on his jacket were heard and then the door slamming. Molly sat down, sighing deeply.

"That boy…" Molly started before Arthur corrected her.

"He's not a boy anymore. He has to make decisions by himself now… He just hasn't been making the right ones. I worry for him sometimes." Arthur said, grabbing the _Daily Prophet_ from in front of Percy's vacated seat.

"Er… Mum… do you mind if we go play-" the doorbell stopped Ron mid-sentence. Everyone looked up, and Molly stood and jogged to the door and out of view from the kitchen.

"Oh hello Mr. Lupin. Is that-?" Molly asked. Everyone leaned over to see what Molly was referring to. Harry froze. _What is Lupin doing here?_

Seconds later, Lupin entered followed by a large black dog that made Harry freeze on the spot. Harry's heart beat quickened, and his breathing suddenly quickened. _Sirius._

"Harry! Do you know how worried I've been?" Remus said, trying unsuccessfully to get Harry's attention, which was fixed on the black dog. "Harry are you listening to me? You just left without a note! S-er I have been looking everywhere for you! All night! Come on, we have to go home and owl Dumbledore. He almost had the Aurors looking for you!" Remus scolded. "Come on." Harry shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere with him!" Harry yelled, pointing to the black dog.

"Harry, come outside for a moment." Remus said, noticing almost the entire Weasley family staring at them. Harry didn't have a choice, as Remus dragged him out of the house, and to the front yard. 

"What was that all about?" Remus asked loudly, pulling Harry away from eyesight, so the Weasleys couldn't see them through the windows.

"Him! I'm not going anywhere with him!" Harry yelled, turning to run away, but Remus grabbed his arm. 

"You're not running off again. Tell me what this is all about!" Remus said. He noticed Harry was going very pale. "Breathe Harry."

Harry took a deep breath. "Can I talk to you away from him?" Remus nodded. Harry jumped back when Sirius transformed. He dragged Remus away quickly. 

"What's going on Harry?" Remus asked, much quieter than before.

"Him. He came home yesterday night. He was really drunk, I couldn't get a civil word out of him. Then he…" Harry paused. He wouldn't be able to say it and he knew, so he drew back his sleeve, revealing the skin that had gone slightly purple. Remus grabbed it gently. He spoke calmly.

"He did this to you?" Remus asked. Harry nodded. Remus ran over to Sirius and pushed him roughly by the shoulders. 

"Starting this _again_ are you! You promised me! You promised James for Merlin's sake Sirius! Doesn't that mean anything to you! You've hurt me, James, Lily and now Harry? I didn't think you were capable of that Sirius." Remus said walking away from him. He was about to just take Harry and go, but he knew that Sirius would have nowhere to go if he left him. The Dementors would get him for sure.

"Come on, we need to take Harry home. Then I'll continue this. I'm not done with you Sirius." Remus said pushing his index finger towards his chest. 

"Done with me? You're not _done _with me?! You don't own me Remus! I'm sorry OK?" Sirius said.

"Sorry doesn't change what you did! What you did to Harry! After the summer he had!" Remus yelled.

Harry was watching, waiting to go home. _Do I want to go home? I don't know anything anymore. _Harry thought desperately. He watched as Remus pushed Sirius, just daring him to do something back. Sirius didn't say a thing now. His head was hung slightly. Harry didn't think it was out of shame though. 

"Come on Harry." Remus said, pulling Sirius along, who was now in his Animagus form, by the scruff of his neck. Remus touched Harry's shoulder, and apparated them back home. 

Harry had just blinked but the next time he opened his eyes, he was back home. Home. Could he call it home anymore? It didn't seem like a home anymore, not that he knew what one felt like. He had dreamed of it though. The warm feeling. The people who smile whenever you come home, actually caring what you did that day. Harry wasted no time in the room with his godfather and Professor, instead he pelted up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, catching Remus's voice as he went.

"_ See? _He doesn't even want to be around you now." 

Harry didn't even think. His journal seemed to call him. Harry didn't object, just grabbed a quill and an ink bottle. 

__

Dear Journal,

__

I can't even bring myself to describe to you the events of the last two days. You're unlike Ron in the fact that you can't pester me with questions. That's why I prefer talking to you. Look at me, preferring the company of a book to a human being. 

To tell you the truth, I don't know what the point is anymore. The point in what? Everything. Every single bloody thing in this world. Why does my existence matter? There's so many other people who can make a difference in this world, and I'm here why? To waste the air? I feel like a tiny, nonexistent speck, but the world sees me the complete opposite. Sometimes I want to be that tiny nonexistent speck and yet sometimes I want someone to notice me. Don't get me wrong, I don't want the whole world to notice me. Just one person. You know? You probably don't but I don't care. Not at this point. 

When I would get mad before, I would breathe. Breathe deep through my nose and the anger would go out with the air. That doesn't work this time. The anger is filling the void I have felt all these years, and I don't think that's good. Some people fill their void with food, and that's why so many people are obese. Some people just leave the void, but that can't be good either. That's why there are so many teenage suicides. Anger's better than that right? I don't know.

I need- no I don't want to finish that. I don't need anything. It's just a want. My basis in life is built on want. I don't need love, I don't need a family. Heck, I've gone this far without it right? 

Arsenide

There's nothing left to fill the void

My whole meaning has been destroyed

Cutting is my steroid

My sanctuary

My existence

The complete bottom has fallen out of my world

It seems the meaning of life has just unfurled

Cutting is my world

My sanctuary

My existence

I feel numb to it all

My whole existence seems small

Why is it so wrong for me to fall?

Cutting is my wall

Surrounding all I try so hard to hide

All I try to divide

I'm empty on the inside

I'll push it all aside

Wait for it to subside

Cutting is my arsenide

My ultimate suicide

My sanctuary

My existence

There I go. First a journal, now poetry. It's quite the cheery number isn't it? Is it wrong for me to feel better now? Am I turning feminine? Stupid poetry. 

-Harry

Harry tucked it away. He didn't want to look at it anymore. He had poured his heart out into the poem and it made him feel better. He felt slightly human again. But that was how girls make themselves feel better right? _There must be men poets… Shakespeare. Hmm. To be, or not to be? That is the question. Is it? I don't get it. _ Harry fell back onto his bed and sighed. Now he was even more confused. A million and one thoughts ran through his head, but most of them centring around the line of Hamlet. 

AN

There you go. Another chapter. This took me a while because I had a big music project due, and plus my mother was making me watch the season finale of Survivor. I don't think Jenna deserved to win. Rob all the way.

Anyways, here are some FAQs with the chapter that I know you'll ask.

Why didn't you bring James back?

I just wanted to end the chapter there, before it got more confusing.

Is Harry going to make it up with Sirius?

Yes. Simple answers are better for this. Yes.

Is Harry going to get together with Hermione?

Yes. Near future, but after James comes back.

How will James come back? HE'S DEAD.

I know. I've read the books too you know. I will explain later, when he comes back.

Who wrote the song?

Harry. No just kidding obviously. It is of my own. I tried to express Harry's feelings in that. I hope you liked.

Adios!

-blackenedsoul


	10. But it Won't Be Easy

Last chapter I had a hundred reviews, and now I have one hundred and thirty! Gee Wiz you guys are great (hehe). A lot of you have said that I should get more reviews, but I'm happy because I haven't gotten this many before. So many positive responses. I'm also surprised at the amount of flames (1). I thought I'd have had more because of the Sirius thing. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter as it is _very _crucial to the story. Pay attention! The plot begins here!

Starseed: But it Won't be Easy

__

The sun was just setting beyond the hills of the English countryside, leaving trails of pink and yellow behind in the evening sky. The bushed rustled slightly as a dark figure ploughed through them, running. He had no idea where he was going anymore. He just had to get away. They would find him if he didn't. Dark figures. Black hoods. Everywhere. They were following him for hours now. He couldn't hear them anymore, but he suspected they were still there, just being more cautious about their movements now. 

He came to a clearing. He saw lights through the leaves and greenery. They were dim from the distance, but still clearly visible. He ran to the light, following it like a moth to a lantern. He stopped for a breath he had been longing to take for miles. The lights became fuzzy. He had lost his glasses long ago. He wiped the sweat from his brow and walked slowly to the building ahead of him. It came into clearer focus the closer he got to it, and he realized it was a house. A shabby one, but a house nonetheless. Only one light was on in the house, but a few lanterns were set up outside on the cracked and broken veranda. He walked to the door and thought for a minute. 

What am I going to do? Knock on the door and just say I'm on the run from an angry mob, who I can't guarantee won't torch your house? 

Cancelling out all doubtful thoughts, he knocked on the door softly. When he got no answer, he decided to be daring and opened the door a crack.

"Hello?" He called. No answer. He heard rustling from upstairs. He spotted the stairs and climbed them as fast as his tired limbs could take him. He entered a long hallway. It was dark except for one room. The door was open and the light was on. He approached it slowly, and opened the door fully. He heard a scream, and then all went black.

Remus waited silently in the hall, trying hard to forget that Sirius was sitting two chairs over from him. There were four chairs in a row and Sirius and Remus chose to sit the farthest away from each other as possible. They would speak to each other when it was necessary, but chose not to voluntarily. 

The door to Remus's right opened a crack, revealing the aged face of Albus Dumbledore. He looked much more grey, and old. Remus felt cold standing next to him as he walked silently into Dumbledore's office. 

Remus had owled Dumbledore to inform him of the situation with Sirius and Harry. Dumbledore responded with a quick note telling him to bring Sirius and himself to his office as soon as possible. 

The office was just as Remus remembered it from when he taught a while back. It was full of ancient looking objects; dusty scrolls; gold coins and passages written in a script Remus didn't recognise. Dumbledore motioned to two chairs in front of his paper clustered desk and Remus sat down. Sirius hesitated.

"Sit down Padfoot." Remus ordered irritably. Remus didn't look directly at him, but could have sworn he rolled his eyes.

"Don't bother Remus. This won't take long." Dumbledore started. He cast a sideways glance towards Fawkes's empty perch and then centred his gaze back to Sirius. "Sirius, my boy I have heard some things. Remus tells me things that trouble me. Are they true?" Sirius scoffed.

"What things? Yeah, I got wasted and crashed back home. I can't remember much, so I don't know what happened after that point. I can't remember laying a finger on Harry. You both know I wouldn't do that I'm sure." Sirius said, glancing nervously from Dumbledore to Remus. 

"I'm sure you wouldn't my boy, but I cannot speak for you under the influence." Dumbledore stated leaning back in his chair slightly. 

"I saw the red mark on his arm Padfoot." Remus sighed in frustration.

"Have you ever had problems with drinking before Sirius?" Dumbledore questioned.

"I don't have a problem!" Sirius yelled. Remus massaged his eyes with his hands and exhaled slowly. 

"We've already been through this. Dumbledore, he used to do this right when we got out of Hogwarts-" Remus started.

"That's a lie! Sure I drank, so did the rest of you! I never had a problem!" Sirius shot at his friend.

"Sirius. When you harm the one thing you treasure most in this world, it's time to stop." Dumbledore said. Sirius shut his mouth when he realized the statement had been centred around his godson. "After all he's been though, this is the last thing he needs. I would never dream about separating the two of you, but if need be…" Dumbledore said with a sigh.

"You can't take him away from me!" Sirius cried. "He'll have no where to go!" 

"Which is exactly why you have to stop." Remus said firmly. Sirius thought for a moment, that seemed like a million years to the latter of the room. He nodded.

"I also advise one of you to talk to him. If he wants to stop, stop. Don't push it." Dumbledore advised. The two nodded. 

Harry sat cross legged on his bed. In his hand was his quill, dipped. His mind was exploding with thoughts, but none seemed to want to make the paper. None seemed logical or intelligent. All of them seemed to come out in poem form, but he refused to put the poems to paper. He wasn't going to go all feminine. 

He looked up sharply when he heard the door open from downstairs. Harry leaned his head against the wall, feeling the coldness against his temple. He sighed. _They're going to come up here… _Sure enough, the door swung open softly, revealing two tired faces. 

"Hey kid." Remus said. "Can we come in?" 

Harry didn't say anything. He closed his eyes, and Remus took that as a sign to enter. Sirius followed slowly behind him. Harry kept his eyes closed. He didn't care about Sirius anymore. What was the point? What was the bloody point in anything? 

"Harry…look at me kid." Sirius said softly. He was about to put his hand on Harry's shoulder, but thought better of it. He looked down at his hands. "I know I can't take back what I did. I would give anything to make that up to you but I know I can't. I'd give you the world if I could Harry, but you know I don't have much to offer you. I know I have a problem," Sirius swallowed, "but that will never happen again. Never, Harry never." Sirius promised. Harry opened his eyes. 

__

What if this all means something? What if I care? Caring means vulnerability, self sacrifice… he smiled slightly at the last statement. _I don't know how to deal with this… the man looks like he's going to cry and I don't know what to do. _

"Harry, the only thing I can give you is love. I promise to take care of you. Help you… but you have to help me kid. I can't do this on my own." Sirius said, voice cracking. 

Harry was stoic. _Oh no… he's going to cry. What do I do? _Harry did the only thing he could bring himself to do. He reached over and pulled Sirius to him, hugging him loosely. Sirius then sobbed into Harry's shoulder, which surprised Harry. He pulled back quickly.

"I'm sorry Harry." Sirius said wiping his eyes. "I'm _so _sorry." Sirius apologized.

Harry knew he was going against everything he originally thought. Everything he had planned to do. He didn't know what it was that made him believe his godfather. Was it the sincerity in his eyes? Or was it just the sheer hope that he might have a second chance at someone to care for him? He didn't know, and he didn't want to. 

Harry nodded again and couldn't help the tear that slipped down his cheek. _He doesn't hate me. _Harry thought as Sirius pulled him into another hug. 

Even five days later, Harry was still confused. Oh so confused about everything. It seemed his once black and white world had turned a myriad of colours. Harry swore people would be able to hear all the thoughts going through his head but only the slight sound of his quill on parchment could be heard. 

__

Dear Journal,

All my thoughts are screams. At first I thought it was Voldemort; giving me his victims tortured screams of agony, but then I realized it was me. It was my voice I heard in my head. I am screaming on the inside. What's wrong with me? Why won't it stop? Why won't I _stop? _

I keep waking up, thinking I'll be in my old bedroom. Cold. Waiting for Vernon to come. Then I hear Sirius snoring in the other room and I can breathe again. It's been hard for him. He's not allowed out alone anymore. Remus has to go with him. Remus is a little pissed at the fact that we can't have any booze in the house but he knows it's to help Sirius. He has mood swings now too, but I've learned to avoid him in the hours at night when he gets desperate. It's not so bad…

The knife is gone. I can't find it. My tourniquet. Gone. Disappeared. Sure, life is better to a certain extent… but I feel like I need it with me, even if I'm not going to use it; just to have it with me; just as a caution, a saviour to my sanity.

It's the one Sirius gave me; the penknife. Do you think Sirius or Professor Lupin found it? I didn't clean it off! They might know! They would be even more in tune with the side of me I try not to let them see. They see Harry Potter, and it's probably better that way. No one sees Harry but I understand now why. I won't let them.

-Harry

Harry set down the book, still surprised at his own revelation. Only a soft knock on his door brought him from his thoughts.

"Harry?" said a voice that Harry knew all to well as Professor Lupin's. 

"Come in Professor Lupin." Harry said softly, not moving from his cushiony mattress. The door swung open, and Professor Lupin entered followed by Sirius. Harry hadn't been aware he was even there. 

"Hey Harry." Sirius said. He was still a little anxious around Harry; he didn't know whether Harry really forgave him or not, so he was really cautious around him. 

"Harry, if you're going to share a house with me, eat my food, and steal my socks from the wash- and yes I know you do that-then don't you think you can call me Remus?" Lupin asked with a slight smile. Harry smiled weakly, not really amused though tried to be polite. "I just want you to be comfortable. You have to go back to calling me Professor Lupin when classes start though." he added. Harry smiled again.

"So…" Harry started uncomfortably. He really wanted to know if there was a reason they were here, but he wasn't about to ask.

"Harry, we wanted to talk to you." Sirius said quickly. 

"About what?" Harry questioned.

"You. What happened at the Dursleys'." said Remus, knowing Sirius wouldn't want to. 

Harry immediately looked to his hands. "What do you want to know?" he asked quietly. 

"When did _it _start?" Sirius asked, feeling brave enough to ask the first question. Harry and Remus both knew what he meant when he said _it._

"I can't remember. It stopped for a bit when I got my Hogwarts letter. I guess they were scared for a bit." Harry managed to squeeze out through the awkwardness building up around the walls of the room. Harry didn't know why they chose this moment to start asking, but he didn't question them, it didn't seem appropriate. 

"So it's been going on for longer than you can remember?" Remus asked, thankfully not looking infuriated.

"The first thing I remember is getting kicked on my third birthday, but it didn't seem new to me then." Harry said looking further; from his hands to the floor. _Are they trying to embarrass me? _

Sirius sighed heavily. "Was it worse back then?" 

"Before my letter to Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Yes." 

"Well it was harder then, you know? A kick or punch did so much more damage when I was younger. But he hardly ever-" Harry stopped point blank and stared off into space, although glad he stopped himself.

"He hardly ever what Harry?" Remus asked. Harry knew he could trust them enough that they wouldn't tell anyone, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to keep _Harry _a secret. He decided to say nothing at all. Remus thought he knew what Harry was going to say, so he pushed the matter.

"Harry…did your uncle ever touch you?" He asked, leaning forward. Harry shifted uncomfortably. This had gone far enough.

"Remus-" Sirius warned, sensing Harry's feelings.

"I don't want to talk anymore." Harry interrupted, standing quickly and walking out of the room. 

"Couldn't you see he didn't want to talk anymore?" Sirius demanded angrily.

"Padfoot, if Harry has been sexually abused then we have to know!" Remus said urgently. 

"Madam Pomfrey would have known when she was healing him." Sirius said, sounding like he just told his friend the sky was blue. 

"Maybe she didn't check! Why didn't we suspect this sooner?" Remus said standing up and pacing the room. 

"Don't assume things Remus!" Sirius said. "I'm going to find Harry." said Sirius before he stomped out of the room. Remus scowled at his back.

It took Sirius a good half hour to find Harry in the house. It wasn't until then that he realized it wasn't that small for three people after all. All the twisty hallways held rooms he hadn't even been in before. He found Harry sitting against the wall in the basement. He looked up when Sirius entered, but didn't look surprised to see him. Harry's eyes followed Sirius as he came and sat down beside him, groaning as he did.

"God, I'm getting old." he said rubbing his lower back.

"You're not _old. You're _just not as young as you used to be." said Harry quietly. Sirius smiled slightly. 

"Harry, I'm really sorry about what happened back there. We needed to know…but Moony was just a little to…" Sirius stopped to search for a better phrase than "much of an asshole".

"Pushy?" Harry suggested, knowing immediately what Sirius was thinking about saying. He almost laughed, but decided against it. 

"You don't have to talk about that stuff yet…but we _do _have to talk about certain aspects of the abuse. If you don't wish to talk about _that _then we don't have to for a while. 'til you're ready." Sirius said putting a hand to his shoulder. Harry closed his eyes and nodded. 

"What do you want to talk about?" Harry asked, looking at his godfather.

"How do you feel about it now?" Sirius asked. 

"Angry." stated Harry simply. 

"Angry at what?" Sirius asked, feeling like he was annoying himself, asking questions from his own questions.

"All those years that I thought that the Dursleys were what all families were like. Angry at Uncle Vernon for trying to make Dudley like him… Angry at Aunt Petunia for doing nothing." Harry said. "She couldn't even get out of bed. The doctors said she was Manic Depressive." Harry swallowed. "Maybe she couldn't do anything…Vernon hurt her too sometimes." 

"How?" Sirius asked, pulling Harry closer. 

"I didn't see it. I was in the cupboard. I heard them yelling, her screaming, and then some mornings last year she would come down to breakfast with the bruises. But I honestly don't know what he did to her and I don't want to know." Harry swallowed again.

"Are you hungry?" Sirius said, thinking they'd had enough talk.

"After that conversation? No." Harry said, with a little laugh. 

__

"Where is he 'Mam?" A bushy looking Auror asked, running his fingers through his frizzy brown beard. The woman was hysterical.

"He's in the closet! I stunned him when he came into my room, but who knows what he would have done! If I hadn't been awake he could have murdered me in my bed!" the woman screamed, her purple tinted hair flying in her face with the wind.

"Get him! That's your job!" She screamed. The Aurors quickly piled into the house, hoping to avoid the Lady's wrath.

"Is it Sirius Black?" Bogtrotter asked, still a trainee. 

"I dunno. She said black haired man. We can only hope it's him." Macarder said, straightening up his uniform and looked around. "Did she say which closet?" 

"I don't think so. She said he found her in her bedroom, so it's probably that closet." 

They raced up the stairs, hoping to catch him before he disappeared again. They opened the door to the bedroom and found the room a mess. The closet door was intact, so he hadn't tried to free himself.

"Is he still stunned?" Bogtrotter asked.

"Probably. There's no other way he could get out other than breaking down the closet door, so my guess is he's still in there." Macarder said, "ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be." Bogtrotter said, bracing himself to face one of the most wanted criminals in his time. "Hey…We'll get our pictures in the paper for this won't we? I can see it now…Macarder and Bogtrotter: The Best Aurors of the Age." Bogtrotter thought in a dreamy state. 

Macarder opened the closet door slowly, wand poised and ready.

"It is him!" Bogtrotter announced to the other Aurors behind them. "Still stunned. Criminal Mastermind my ass." Macarder grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the closet. 

He pinned him on his stomach and tied his wrists together behind his back with an unbreakable thread. The hauled him up and proceeded to carry him out of the house none to gently. 

Dumbledore sat at his desk, wide-eyed, staring down at the note Fudge had just sent him. 

We've caught Black! The Honourable Judge Carter wishes for a natter before they execute him. -Fudge

He arrived just minutes after reading the note, taking a Portkey to Azkaban. He found Black tied to a chair, struggling, and Fudge taunting him.

"Thought we'd never find you eh Black? Thought you could just-" 

"I do think that is enough Fudge." Dumbledore said, placing a hand on Fudge's shoulder. He pulled away. Fudge was blocking Dumbledore's view of Black, and he leaned over for a closer look. What he saw made his eyes grow large.

"That isn't Black!" He said. _I knew it was going to happen…_

"What on earth are you talking about Dumbledore? BLACK! Sirius Black! We've got him!" 

"That is not Sirius Black. That is James Potter." 

*

Alright, I know this chappie seems short, but I was busy and that's all I wanted to put in. 

I WILL EXPLAIN HOW JAMES CAME BACK IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. DON'T WORRY. 

I know some of you don't like the idea of rape/sexual abuse, so I'm not going to state for sure in the story, unless you all want me to.

Review Responses:

Marie: Happy? Hehe. 

The Silver Lady: I'm glad you have taken interest in my story. I hope you enjoyed the chappie. 

Mistress Mavy: James is officially in the house. I will explain how in the next chappie, but I couldn't fit it in. 

Katie: I used to be a GW/HP shipper, but then I entered the world of H/Hr. Don't worry, Harry won't get all happy 'cause of a relationship. It won't be fluffy like my other fics either. No need to fret.

Mistress Demonstress: I hope you're back by the time this is out! 

Lemon Drops: Yes… Harry is going to be quite messed up.

Marie: Ok… Are you the same Marie that reviewed later? Iunno. Sorry I didn't put in another song.

Mihoshe: Led Zeppelin? Dude! You have good taste in music! Kazaa isn't working for me though o_0

Carter: Why thank you.

Lela Potter: I think my writing has improved with each story. ..that's why I'm not completing Crimson Tears. Thank you!

Ides of March: Ah… the trust is back. A little rushed but what can I say? Thanks!

Mandy: Yeah, I posted it on fiction press but it's different. All my other songs and poems are on there. Same penname. 

Kim: I update pretty fast… but that's probably because my life is so boring…this is what I do all day. Thanks for reviewing!

Hermione Thomas-Taylor: Yes. I suppose it is deep. Quite a change from regular angst fics. Thanks!

Kateydidnt: All will be explained in the next chappie about James. I just wanted to surprise you all with the Sirius thing. .

coolone007: Naw. I don't have problems that large. If it's believable, then I guess I'm doing my job.

Adios y'all.

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	11. They Won't Believe a Man Could Drown

My Website,  has officially opened. I will post my fan fiction on there in about a week. I only plan to add this and my new one. It has some really funny stuff (meow mix songs) and stuff. After you read this you should go. It has info on chapter updates.

All questions should be answered with this chapter. Sorry for the cliff-hanger.

Just to warn you, I have decided to make Harry sexually abused, but it WILL NOT go into graphic detail, and remember there is no slash in this story.

This chapter has graphic self abuse.

This will probably be confusing…but hey, I tried. 

|Starseed| |They Won't Believe How a Man Could Drown|

__

"What? Come now Dumbledore, You can't be serious! James Potter has been dead for fourteen years." Fudge shouted, waving his hands in exasperation. The only similarities between Sirius Black and James physically were the black hair and possibly complexion. It was impossible now. Sirius Black, the last time he was seen in Azkaban was every child's vision of the boogie man. The elongated tangled masses of black hair, the daunting, shallow pools of greyish blue in his eyes and his emaciated frame. The same features could be found in the man tied to the chair with magical chains. 

"Look into his eyes Fudge." Dumbledore instructed, pointing to the man. Fudge looked quizzically towards Dumbledore, but nodded to two Aurors who stepped forward and held Black to the chair, making sure no 'funny business' would be done. The man's chin was to his chest, preventing Fudge's view. He tipped up his head, and looked into the creamy cinnamon eyes of the fugitive. 

"What is this magic?" Fudge shrieked. "Dumbledore! What have you done to his eyes?" 

"I assure you minister, I have not touched the lad." Dumbledore said calmly. He had been preparing for the return, but certainly not like this. He walked forward to Fudge and the fugitive, Fudge still holding his chin up. 

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore said, looking for some sort of a sign that he was listening. "You need to prove who you are. Can you transform?" Dumbledore asked. It took a minute, but a shuddering breath was taken in and words escaped the chapped lips. 

"…Too tired…weak from Cruciatus…" 

"James." Dumbledore said sternly. "The Aurors won't have any choice but to give you the kiss unless you co-operate." The man moaned in frustration. Wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep. Sleep for years. 

"Untie me." He commanded. Fudge scoffed.

"How ridiculous! Don't untie him you fools!" Fudge yelled at Macarder and Bogtrotter, who had begun to pick the locks on the chains. "We untie him and he runs!" 

"He hasn't a wand. Lock the doors if it will put your mind to rest." Dumbledore said. Fudge scowled. Macarder and Bogtrotter went about locking the windows and doors at all sides of the room. The ministry buildings had lots of windows. 

With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the chains were gone. 

"What are you asking him to do Dumbledore? Pull out a nametag?" 

"Animagus transformation." 

"He's not a registered Animagus! What is going on here! I demand to know!" Fudge yelled.

"I think that was the whole point." Dumbledore smiled slightly. "James, if you please?" 

The man stood up on shaky feet and shook both arms at his side and inhaled deeply, salvaging some strength. This hadn't been done in a while. 

The men in the room stood and waited. Fudge was strict about who was allowed high in the ministry, some would call him sexist, and some would just call him a bigot in general. 

He soon began to change. First his arms tinted, and grew elongated with his legs. His neck grew and prongs grew from the top of his head. Soon, a mighty stag showed itself before the crowd.

"Sir…if I may…it was proved when he died that he was an unregistered Animagus. A stag, sir. I work in records." A short, blond man said.

"But as you said…er…" Fudge started.

"Morden, sir."

"Morden." Fudge tested. "As Morden said, he's dead. There's no spell to awake the dead Dumbledore." 

Dumbledore sighed. He was one of those people who only believe what they see. 

"It was not a spell. Not entirely. There is a secret. One that has been kept from everyone for years. It is time that you all heard." Dumbledore started. 

"Dumbledore…no…" James interrupted, sitting back in the chair. This time, he was not chained. 

"It is the only was this can be explained. You see, an heir is passed through the generations. Gilden Potter was the heir to Godric Gryffindor. When he died at a young age, he passed his power to his only son. The power can only be passed to the eldest son, but James was the only son born, due to his father's short life, as Lord Nyoka, ultimately killing him as well, defeated him. When James died, the powers were passed to his son, but still half-life in James." Dumbledore said with a slight smile. 

"This is nonsense Dumbledore! You mean the Potter boy? Heir to Gryffindor? How is James here…if you said he did die?" Fudge said narrowing his eyes. 

"All will be explained. Good things come to those who wait." Dumbledore cast a quick glance to James before continuing. "A few months ago, Lord Voldemort regained his powers-" He was cut off by a thunderous ripple of frightened murmurs erupted from the crowd of Aurors and ministry officials. Some shocked by the news, some shivered just by hearing the name. 

"Please. If I may." The voices stopped abruptly. "Harry and Voldemort share the same wand properties. Phoenix tail feather. From my Phoenix actually. Most of you should know from your sixth year studies what happens when to wands with the same properties duel. They connect. The reverse spell effect occurred, but what went unnoticed by most, is the fact that Priori Incantatem occurs with an heir, the 'echo' of the victim emerges, it doesn't quite disappear. The 'echo goes back into the wand, but the spirit of the victim stays behind." 

"So he's a ghost?" Fudge asked, walking to James and pinched his cheek hard.

"Ow! I'm no bloody ghost! Dumbledore, I'll make it short." James said, feeling his strength returning. "I wandered as a spirit for weeks. No one could see me, only dogs and some people could sense me. Dumbledore found me in Godric's Hollow. He knew this was going to happen, and he knew I would go there. There are a handful of spells that can turn spirits into human form." James said. Dumbledore continued;

"Not spirits all exactly. Only spirits of heirs and wizards of great power. When they are spirits, they are half alive in a sense because of their great power. A rather complicated spell was needed, but it was done. James Potter is alive and well."

"I wouldn't go that far…" James quipped. Dumbledore chuckled through the tension in the room.

*

Sirius had been going easy on Harry that day, letting him waste a beautiful day in his room if he wanted. He had started to feel as if they were pressuring Harry to talk and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Remus seemed to be getting the idea too, and gave him a little space as well.

__

Dear Journal,

I still haven't found the knife. I'm starting to seriously doubt that Sirius or Remus found it, because they would have brought it up (they brought everything else up). I still don't know where it is though. Maybe it's hidden under the bottomless heap of clothes in my room…I'm not sure. I think Remus is sorry for persisting in the question-asking. He's been avoiding me. I've come to learn that means he's sorry. 

I find myself not feeling complete by writing poetry. I tried yesterday, but it doesn't feel the same. Then I started humming them. I guess I'm writing songs now…even though I know nothing about music. I can't read it, and have little to no appreciation for most of it. I spent all day on something that no one else will understand…but they don't have to. God forbid someone sees this:

__

Untitled

It's the voice in the back of my head

It's what I see when I close my eyes

It's what awakens when I scream

It's everything dark in disguise

It's what laughs when I break

It's the reason I'm starting to slip

It's what holds on to everything I fake

It's what's slowly breaking my grip

I can't fight it anymore

It's really only me

I can't break from it anymore

'Cause it's really only me

It's the shadow that follows me

It's the fluid making me choke

It's the ripped pictures on my wall

It's the voice telling me it's all a joke

It's the cold hands holding me down

It's what's holding me under hoping I'll drown

It's why I can't keep things

It's the hand that broke my wings

I can't fight it anymore

It's really only me

I can't break from it anymore

'Cause it's really only me

I can't fight it anymore

It's really only me

I can't break from it anymore

'Cause it's really only me

Doesn't follow any specific pattern, doesn't have only one meaning. I feel better now, but not good. Feeling good would scare me.

-Harry

Harry packed away his quill and ink and put his journal securely under his pillow. He lay down to sleep, but was awoken five minutes later by an annoyed tap on the window. He groaned, rubbing his eyes and groggily sat up. He was met by the blurry image of Hedwig outside his small window. Harry had sent an owl to Ron earlier, apologizing for what had happened earlier at his house, and to thank Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for taking him in for the night on such short notice. 

Harry took the letter from Hedwig and was about to walk away to read it, but Hedwig nudged his arm towards her cage.

"Tired? I'll unlock it for you. Hang on." Harry said looking around his desk for the small key to her cage. He found it and played with the lock before it came undone. Hedwig hooted and ruffled her feathers, walking across his desk, and hopping in. She buried her head under her wing. Harry started to walk away again, but something shiny caught his eye. Metal. It was catching the light from the sun leaking in from his window. He stepped closer. His knife. 

"Bugger!" Harry said, opening the cage. Hedwig's head popped out and pecked at his wrist angrily. 

"Hedwig…Did you take my knife?" Harry asked, trying to get at it again. Hedwig let out an indignant hoot and tried to peck him again. Harry grabbed the knife, but not before being scratched by her sharp talons. 

"This wasn't funny." Harry said, glaring at her before walking back to his bed, knife in hand. 

Harry tore open Ron's letter and unfolded it before reading.

__

Harry,

__

You don't have to apologise for anything. I understand that you just had to get away. I don't know why, and I know you probably won't tell me for a while if at all. I don't care though. Your business , not mine. 

Mum said not to worry yourself over it. It was great to see you, even if it was short. 

Five days until school starts now. We have to go to Diagon Alley. Hermione told me she's be going tomorrow. I asked Mum, so I can go. Are you going to come? Owl me back when you find out.

-Ron

P.S. Hermione won't tell me anything about her trip to Bulgaria! 

Harry laughed though his nose at the ending of the letter before standing up and putting the letter in a drawer of his dresser and headed downstairs. 

Remus was in the kitchen, fighting the urge to eat a lump of raw pork, as he was almost always temped to do before the full moon. 

"Just eat it. It won't make you sick. You're half wolf right now anyway." Sirius said nonchalantly. Remus gripped the edge of the sink as Harry sat down at the kitchen table next to Sirius. 

"But…I don't know. I feel so degraded when I eat it. Like a monster." Remus said hoarsely. 

"You can't help it. Me and Harry know you're not a monster. It's unfortunate that you're a werewolf, but it doesn't change who you are." Sirius said trying to be a comfort. Harry nodded reassuringly. 

"It's nice of you to say that. I'm just going to go up to bed." said Remus, walking away, happy he hadn't touched the raw meat.

"So…" Sirius said when he and Harry were alone. Harry cocked and eyebrow. "What have you been doing all day?" 

"Nothing really. Ron wrote me. He and Hermione are going to Diagon Alley and want me to go too. Do you think I'd be able to?" Harry asked. 

"Yes of course. You just have to watch yourself. Dumbledore is trying to persuade Fudge to put Aurors around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Maybe even Hogwarts. Fudge just refuses to believe he's back…" Sirius said shaking his head. "That man is going to doom the whole wizarding world. Mark me words." Sirius advised. Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded. He ran up the stairs to his bedroom, pulling out his bottle of ink, quill and a piece of parchment. He quickly scribbled a note out to Ron.

__

Ron,

I'm allowed to go. I'll meet you there at two? Sorry it's short, but I'm busy.

-Harry

Harry felt dirty for lying to Ron. The letter itself seemed to be carrying lies too dirty to meet his eyes. He quickly folded it up and sent it out with Hedwig. He knew he wasn't busy. He just wanted the knife. He wanted it more than he ever had. He guessed it was because Hedwig hid it on him and he had been without it for a long time, so it seemed. 

He grabbed it from inside the crease of his journal, which was tucked away under his pillow. It seemed blunt. It didn't feel the same but he still desired the sting, the blood, the sense of release. 

He bent his palm back, exposing his wrist and the underside of his arm. The veins pulled closer to the surface of the skin, bright blue. His pink scars stuck out slightly more.

He pulled the knife down, hissing at the sudden contact of the surprisingly sharp, cold metal. He dragged it across his arm, creating a line of red. It took a while for the blood to reach the surface. It didn't bleed much and he decided he needed more. He dug deeper, just below his wrist, and the blood gushed. Harry clenched his teeth together and gripped the self-inflicted wound with his other arm, still holding the knife. He sat there for a minute, staring at the free-flowing blood. After a while it hit him that it wasn't going to stop and he wrapped a shirt around it. Dark red stains were still appearing and he started to panic.

__

Sirius is going to see. He'll see all the blood. Why won't it stop?

When Harry could feel the wetness on his shirt he made a break for the bathroom. 

Sirius was still sitting in the kitchen when he heard thundering footsteps upstairs. He knew instantly it was Harry, because Remus couldn't possibly run that fast this close to the full moon. He stood up, wondering what in Merlin's name was going on. He ran up the stairs and noticed the bathroom light was on. He knocked lightly on the door. 

"_Harry?" _Sirius called, knocking again. 

He heard a cough. 

He tried to open the door, but found it locked. 

"Are you OK? Harry?" 

"I-I'm fine." Harry's strangled voice traveled through the door. "Just felt a little sick." 

"Are you OK?" 

"Now I am." 

"Alright. Need any help?

"No. Just fine." 

"Alright." 

Sirius reluctantly walked away from the bathroom door. Harry hadn't eaten anything all day to his knowledge. He had tried to get him to eat something, but Harry had refused. How could he throw up with nothing in his stomach? No one he had been in contact with had been sick. Sirius went to his bedroom to lay down.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't lied _completely. _He really had been sick, but it was because he didn't think that much blood would come. He had managed to clot most of it, and held it underwater while he brushed his teeth. Spitting out the last of the horrible taste, he pulled his black shirt sleeve down over the cut and walked slowly back to his room. He was a little uneasy on his feet, but this happened a lot. He felt the need to take out his journal for the second time that day.

__

Dear Journal,

Hedwig stole the knife from me. I don't know whether she just wanted me to pay more attention to her or if she was genuinely worried about me. I think I cut too deep. Not fatally deep, just enough to make me scared of myself. If I was going to kill myself, I would want it planned out, not spur of the moment or even on accident. I lost a fair amount of blood too, so I need to slow it down a bit. What would Sirius say if he found out? Would he be disappointed? Worried? Scared? I don't know but

"Harry?" Harry jumped, at the sound of Sirius's voice and closed his journal with crack. "Sorry if I scared you. I brought you lunch." He said gesturing to the tray of a glass of orange juice and a turkey sandwich. 

"You didn't have to bring me anything. I could have made it myself." Harry said, pushing the book to the side, unintentionally drawing Sirius's attention to it. 

"You use the journal Hermione gave you? I didn't think you would." Sirius said, placing the tray on the end of Harry's bed. "Anyway…I feel left out when Remus doesn't need my help before a full moon. I need to do something around here." 

"Thanks." Harry said with a slight smile, pulling his sleeves down. 

"Hermione would be happy to see you using that." Sirius said. "Your dad had a journal too." Sirius added before stepping out of the door.

*

"Please sit down James." Dumbledore said, gesturing to the leather chair in front of his desk. James rubbed his cleanly shaven chin, not exactly used to it being smooth. He had gotten Madam Pomfrey to use a shaving charm, since he didn't have a wand. She cut his hair and Dumbledore gave him clean robes. 

The ministry pardoned him, after much deliberation and the ministry was told not to alert the presses and tell no one what had transpired. Dumbledore had taken James to Hogwarts, where he could rest and be taken care of by Madam Pomfrey. 

"Dumbledore…why did they want Sirius?" James asked desperately. He had been so confused. 

Dumbledore sighed and looked at James over his half moon spectacles. "After you died…Sirius was convicted of betraying you, and killing thirteen other people. He spent twelve years in Azkaban before he escaped. He's been sentenced to the kiss-"

"That's ridiculous! Sirius didn't betray me!" 

"Yes. I know James. When Sirius escaped he went to Harry. Followed him during the summer and then eventually to Hogwarts." 

"Harry…" said James. The last time he had seen him he was in rough shape. Kidnapped by Voldemort. "Is he alright?" 

"Do you think I'd let anything happen to him in the short amount of time since you last saw him?" Dumbledore said with a slight smile.

"So he's alright?" James said, but was not comforted by the look Dumbledore gave back, ands when he didn't answer for an extended period of time.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry's been through a lot for someone so young." 

"What's that supposed to mean?!" James exclaimed, getting out of his seat.

"Please sit down James." Dumbledore said calmly. 

"When can I see him?" It really wasn't a question that came out of James's mouth.

"Come now. We can't just jump into this. Sirius and Remus took your death very hard. Harry's never known you. You have to go into this rationally." Dumbledore said, trying to reason with the panicked man before him. 

"I just want to see my son…" James said sorrowfully. He knew his son had no idea who he was; what he could become. He didn't know the power embedded within him. He didn't know that he held the key to liberating the entire world and to subjugate all evil.


	12. In a Starseed

à **Starseedß **

à _Chapter 11:In A Starseedß _

__

Dear Journal,

Why do people have names? What is the point of labelling someone, whether it be by name, social group, sexual preferences or by the clothes they wear? It doesn't effect most people the way it effects me. People hear my name and all think the same thing. Harry Potter. Saviour of the Wizarding World. Dead parents. Only a select few (Hogwarts students) think of Hogwarts champion or the person-responsible-for-Cedric's-death-but-never-got-punished-for-it. I want to go back to my old way of life. When someone said Harry Potter, people would think "who the hell is that?" 

Nothing else stands out about me that normally would with other people. My black clothes, my sometimes antisocial attitude. I'm only a freak to the Slytherins. I'm seen as a dysfunctional adolescent to the rest of the student body. The centre of all things concerning dark arts. This is me, this is my life. 

-Harry

*

"Tell me about him Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore won't tell me anything." James said to the matron, who was currently applying a sticky substance to the prominent, strawberry pink scars near his brow bone. He flinched at the sudden coolness of it against his skin. 

"Well, I've seen him enough to write a book about him that child." she tutted. "Wasn't long after he started first year before I met him. Bloody Quidditch." Madam Pomfrey cursed, tapping James's head once, where the scarring had previously been. When the skin didn't bend into his skull, or feel like a sponge, she pushed him off of the hospital bed. 

"Harry plays Quidditch?" He asked, grinning. "What position?"

"That's enough mister Potter. You'll need to sleep on that. It's still tender." Madam Pomfrey said before pushing him out the door.

"But-" The door slammed in his face. He sighed. Nothing came easily anymore. Not even his own son.

*

"Harry. Wake up kid." Harry groaned at the voice interrupting his dreamless sleep. It started again, only this time louder and more impatient. Harry groaned and rolled over.

"Hey. You're the one who wanted to go." Sirius said, shaking Harry again. 

"Go where?" Harry asked hoarsely. 

"Diagon Alley?" Sirius said, laughing through his nose. He stood back as Harry sat up squinting.

"Want some toast?" Sirius asked, throwing Harry his clothes so he could get ready quickly. Harry caught his black , long sleeved shirt and black-gone-grey cut-off knee high pants. The shirt was one of Dudley's that Remus had been able to shrink. It was still pretty worn, but he decided just to safety pin the holes. He would be able to do some more shopping in Diagon Alley. 

"Harry! You ready?" Sirius shouted up the stairs. He heard a muffled "yeah!" and walked up the stairs. Remus's door was closed, but Sirius opened it a crack and saw him sleeping, dark circles under his eyes. The full moon was tomorrow, so he was trying to get in as much sleep as possible. He usually went for four days without sleep after a transformation. He closed the door tightly behind him and continued down the straight hallway to Harry's bedroom. 

"Socks?" Sirius asked. Harry had little to no socks, and was always slow in going anywhere because of the shortage. 

"Yeah. Don't worry, found them." Harry said standing and following Sirius out the door. 

* 

James sat on the windowsill, temple against the glass. He stared northward. He didn't know where Hogwarts was, but the thought that Harry might be close by kept him contented. The pallid moon was standing out predominantly against the ebony sky. Strangely enough, the sky wasn't speckled with the normal glowing stars. Completely black. Black as the feelings building up in the pit of his stomach. 

"You should be sleeping, James." Dumbledore's voice came from the doorway. James didn't look up, but instead looked at his reflection in the mirror. 

"Good evening Dumbledore." James said emotionlessly. He closed his eyes and didn't notice Dumbledore walk closer. He only looked up when Dumbledore placed his hand on James's shoulder. 

"I know you want to see Harry, your friends. I want you to see them too, but I don't want to rush things. Harry's at an uneasy stage in his life. Puberty is bad enough." Dumbledore stated truthfully. 

"No one will tell me anything." James said hoarsely, his voice tight in his throat. 

"That is only because Harry's life story, no matter how short, is his to tell. I will tell you only what he'd feel comfortable for me to say." Dumbledore said. James sat up straight in anticipation. 

"Harry is very unique, to say the least. Honest when it is right to be and is completely selfless. He is a very strong person. His never-failing faith has gotten him through a lot, and will get him many places in later life." Dumbledore sighed. "Not to mention he looks just like you." The two smiled.

"Still have Li's eyes?" James asked, using his nickname for her. When Dumbledore nodded he smiled sadly. 

"She was a wonderful person, James. You were lucky to have the time you did with her." Dumbledore said, patting him on the back in a comforting manner. 

"I know." James sighed.

"I'll leave you to sleep. It must have been an excruciatingly long day for you." The door shut tightly but quietly, leaving James still on the windowsill, with a silent tear carving a sodden trail down his cheek.

*

"Cruse Snape." Sirius said as he helped Remus down the stairs. 

"As much as I hate him, I can't blame him for this. He never had to make me Wolfsbane in the first place." Remus said breathlessly as he sat down in the caged area of his basement. Sirius sat down too. 

"Want me to sit with you until you transform?" Sirius asked, shifting himself on the cement floor. He normally locked Remus in the afternoon before, just to be safe. The basement's soul purpose was for transformations. Sirius almost always sat with him. Whether there was Wolfsbane to be had or not. During a vicious transformation, Sirius would be outside the cage, looking to distract Remus from killing himself with his paws. 

"No, Sirius. I'll be OK. Keep Harry upstairs; I don't want him to hear this, let alone see it." Remus said. "Where is Harry anyways?"

"He went to Diagon Alley to meet Ron and Hermione. School shopping. Harry needed some new clothes too. Any colour besides black would be good." Sirius joked.

"Just let him wear what he wants. I'd draw the line when he comes home with tattoos up his arms though." Remus said, smiling slightly when Sirius sat up sharply.

"Don't even say that!" Sirius exclaimed. 

*

Harry was walking aimlessly in Diagon Alley. Neither Ron nor Hermione had stated where they would meet, so he thought he would just shop for himself until he found them. The first place he went was a small shoe store outside the main road. After a good ten minutes of wandering around the store he settled for a pair of Doc Marten's, with buckles that went halfway up his calf. 

Outside, the light of the sun had dimmed, and the street was cast with late afternoon shadows. The street looked grey and murky, and the only thing that stood out to Harry's eyes was a flash of red hair that peeked out amongst black robes. 

"Ron!" Harry shouted, running up behind his friend.

"Oh! Geez, you scared me." Ron exhaled, before pulling his friend along in the search for Hermione. 

*

James woke with a start, he felt a soft yet prickly brush against his cheek. He opened his warm brown eyes to see two large bulging ones staring back at him. He jumped and sat up. 

"I remember you…" James said, brushing his hand against the flaming scarlet and shining gold feathers of the Phoenix resting on his lap.

"What's this?" James asked, noticing for the first time the letter that was clamped in it's beak. He pulled it gently out, and ripped open the Hogwarts crest stamped on that back in wax.

__

Mr Potter,

I have scheduled a meeting with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. If you are ready, I think it's time you see them. I am currently in a meeting in London, and will return at half past four. 

-Albus Dumbledore

It was obviously done roughly and quickly, as Dumbledore didn't use his normal stationary. James tossed the letter to his bedside table and shooed Fawkes from his lap. 

"This is it Fawkes, my friend. This is it." James added in a whisper to the great bird before him. Fawkes cocked it's head in response. James grinned excitedly, swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up.

"Wait…" James sat back down. "What if…what if they're mad at me? What if they're mad at me for not saving Li?" James put his head in his hands. "Will this nightmare ever end?" 

*

"Hermione! Over here!" Ron called over the heads and voices of the large crowd of students doing last-minute shopping before term started. Her hair stood out a good four inches from her head, the long, frizzy tresses dangling just past her shoulders. She was crouched on the ground, petting a large, orange ball of fur that both Harry and Ron guessed was Crookshanks. She stood up and wrapped her arms around both of them at the same time, smiling brightly. 

"It's so good to see you!" She pulled them tighter. Harry and Ron pushed her off them, blushing, hoping no one they knew was in the crowd. "Sorry I didn't see you. Crookshanks seems to have a nasty flu, so I brought him here and got a potion for him. It doesn't seem to work though-" She was cut off by a loud sneeze, that seemed to come from the large Ginger cat. The sneeze sent him flying backward a foot, and he landed with a 'thud'. Hermione rushed over to him and picked him up.

"Poor thing…" 

"Hermione…er.. we've already done our shopping…we thought you didn't come." Harry said.

"Do you two honestly think I'd leave my school shopping until the last minute? I did it weeks ago! I had to.. if I wanted to get ahead and read _Advanced Transfiguration: Grade Five. _I just came to get the tonic for Crookshanks and maybe buy a new pair of shoes in muggle London." Hermione said, placing Crookshanks on the ground again.

"Did you?" Ron asked.

"No…I decided not to…why?" 

"Never mind." Ron said, jumping slightly in surprise when Crookshanks sneezed again. 

"Well…since we're done our shopping…want an ice cream?" Hermione suggested, both boys nodded, and walked at a fast pace. 

*

"Harry…you OK mate?" Ron asked, trying to swallow a large clump of ice cream, freezing the whole inside of his mouth. "You've been quiet. You're never quiet." 

"Is it your scar?" Hermione said, but immediately regretted it. Harry growled angrily. 

"Just _tired _OK? My scar hasn't hurt in a _long _time. There's no reason for you to jump to that conclusion." Harry said in an irritated manner. He couldn't get away from the topic even with his friends. 

"Look, I'm sorry. Now that You-Know-Who is back…we just have to be more careful with things like your scar." Hermione said, looking at the lightning bolt on his forehead. 

"Just don't turn into Sirius and ask every five minutes." Harry said. Ron was clutching his head. 

"Never again." he said through his brain freeze.

"You know you will." said Harry with a laugh. 

"So how are things at Sirius and Remus'? Hermione asked handing Ron a napkin. 

"It's alright. Way better than the Dursleys'…" there was a long awkward pause. Both Ron and Hermione knew it wasn't wise to mention the Dursleys; they had no idea how Harry would act to such a topic. 

"Sirius usually leaves me alone for the whole day. I don't know if he forgives me for…" Harry paused again. _Why do I do that? Now they're going to want to know…_

"For what?" Ron sure enough asked, but then remembered the conversation him and Harry had had a short time ago. "Oh…right…no questions."

"What are you two _talking _about?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. 

"I don't even know." Ron said sinking in his chair. 

"How's Professor Lupin doing? The full moon's soon…" Hermione said, looking up to the shadowy sky, and saw a vague outline of the moon. 

"Sirius is locking him in the basement tonight. He told me that's where he goes. Sirius and him built it so he wouldn't have to go to the Shrieking Shack every month." Harry explained. Ron and Hermione nodded, showing their understanding.

They continued talking, sitting in an outside table until a waitress had to come and shoo them out for loitering. 

*

__

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin,

There is of urgent business to be discussed in my office at quarter past five. I will keep this brief.

-Albus Dumbledore

Sirius set down the note, scrunching his brow in confusion. _What does Dumbledore have to tell us? Doesn't he realize it's the full moon? _

"What does the note say?" came a raspy, thick voice from the corner. Sirius glanced with pity to his friend, sitting on the concrete ground, leaning against the white-washed brick walls. Only bars stood between the two, but it was like a million miles separating them, holding them back from the desperate comfort that needed to be supplied. 

Sirius leaned against the bars. "It's from Dumbledore. He wants us to come to his office in an hour. Gave us a Portkey too." Sirius replied holding up a single tissue and passing the note through the moderately separated bars, handing it to Remus. He took it lazily, and read it over, a confused look etched on his grey, sickly face.

"Doesn't he know it's the full moon?" Remus asked, passing the note back, his whole arm shaking with the effort of moving. 

"You'd think he would…He said it was urgent though…what are we going to do?" Sirius asked, hoping for any sign on an answer on his friends shadow-cast face. 

"You can go…I'll be OK." Remus assured his friend. Sirius nodded but the sat up abruptly. 

"I'm not saying I don't trust you…but you have no control over yourself when you transform…I don't think it's wise to leave Harry alone with you. He's bound to wander downstairs." Sirius said.

"Then why don't you take him with you? If it's something Dumbledore doesn't want to talk about with Harry then I suppose he can just wait outside his chamber or something…" Remus suggested thoughtfully. Sirius sighed. 

"I suppose you're right…I just hope Harry gets home before I have to go. If he doesn't then I'm going to have to owl Dumbledore and tell him to wait up for me. Are you sure you're going to be OK?" Sirius asked in a concerned manner, looking Remus up and down. Remus rolled his eyes.

"I'll be fine." 

"I'll only stay as long as I have to. Then I'll come back and-" Sirius was interrupted by a loud crash from upstairs. Remus and Sirius both looked upward. 

"That'll be Harry…" Remus said, chuckling lightly. "Go up and get going early. I don't want Harry to see me like this." Remus said, waving his hand, gesturing for Sirius to leave. Sirius nodded solemnly. 

"OK,OK. I'll go…take care of yourself OK?" Sirius said, causing Remus to laugh ironically. 

"Will do." 

Sirius cast Remus one last look goodbye before hurrying up the stairs to meet Harry.

Harry was dusting the soot from his pants, and then he dropped two large, bulging bags to the floor, sighing in release from the heavily load. 

"Hey Sirius." Harry said, a small smile on his lips. Sirius smiled back.

"Harry, I have to go to Hogwarts - a meeting with Dumbledore, and I need you to come to. I doubt you'll be able to listen in, but I just need you to come with me." Sirius said vaguely, grabbing the Portkey and walking briskly toward the to Harry. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his face scrunched in confusion. 

"Wait…" Harry said, stopping Sirius from putting his hand to the Portkey.

"Dumbledore said it was urgent…so we had better get ready…the Portkey sends us to Hogwarts at quarter past five…which is practically now…" Sirius said, Harry reluctantly touched the Portkey, sending them flying into oblivion a second later, both feeling the familiar tug behind their navel. 

* 

"Ah…Sirius…Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore said, surprised to see him, but glad to all the same. 

"It's the full moon tonight…so Moony couldn't come. It wouldn't feel right to leave Harry alone with him either." Sirius explained, both to Dumbledore and Harry. "Harry'll just wait outside, if you don't mind…" Sirius asked.

"That would not be a problem." Dumbledore said, motioning for Harry to sit in a metal, foldout chair outside the door. Harry sat down without a word. Trying not to show his frustration at just being a burden to Sirius. Just a stitch in his side, a problem that had to be dealt with. 

When they were gone he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. It's not like he had better things to do. He liked coming to Hogwarts, but the last tine he had been here it was because of…

He found he couldn't bring himself to say it. _It's a memory. All in the past and there's no use in bringing it up. When you think things like that you start to remember. You become what you used to be. A shell. Vulnerable. You must never go back to that. No matter what the cost. Never._

Harry sat preaching sternly to himself silently. He was brought out of his thoughts by a muffled exclamation through the crack at the bottom of the door. He listened intently and the exclamations grew louder, but still undecipherable. Harry moved closer to the door, his boot unintentionally squeaking on the tile floor. He jumped back, when the voices stopped momentarily. After a second of reassurance, he pressed his ear back to the door.

*

"Sirius I would not call you here if it were not for these urgent circumstances." Dumbledore began, as Sirius sat down in a chair in front of his desk, sinking into the leather. 

"And they are? Your letter was very blunt, Dumbledore." Sirius interrupted. Dumbledore sighed sharply.

"Yes, I know, I had to make it brief. I sent it to you from a meeting so you would be here just after I returned." Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair.

"Dumbledore, I hate to be rude, but it's the full moon…I don't like to leave Moony alone…" Sirius said, glancing at the door as if his friend was behind the polished oak door. 

"Very well. There really is no way to tell you this, so I won't." Dumbledore said vaguely. Sirius made a sound of protest, but was cut off. "I will show you." 

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. He couldn't say he didn't expect Dumbledore to turn into a giant lizard, or himself spontaneously combust. He didn't expect the door to creak open, let alone see the person in the doorway. He could have fainted dead away, but his fingernails digging into the leather steadied himself somewhat. He spluttered.

"J-James?" Sirius couldn't move. Couldn't speak properly. His eyes were glued open, although watering terribly. He could feel his own heart beating against his chest, and swore he could almost hear James'. 

"Sirius…" James breathed, looking at the man before him. It wasn't the Sirius he once knew. Not the young, jovial Sirius that he was used to. His skin was still young, but the eyes. Oh, those eyes. They were a cold grey. Not blue. Cold, saddened and downcast. His hair had no speckles of grey, but James could see the age in him. His eyes were bearing down on him, burning his skin with the stare. 

"What? How? Are-" Sirius was interrupted by a gasp from the door way. Harry was standing, the door only open a crack, but the look of surprise was plain on his face. His eyes were wide. Suddenly, the door slammed and the three in the room heard the footfalls as Harry ran desperately down the hall.

*

AN: Tell me what you think! If it seems rushed, I'm sorry. 

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	13. Logan's Run

**Starseed**

**I Hoped to Find Why the World Wasn't Glowing**

Harry ran. Flat out ran as fast as he could and as far as he could. He ran through the secret passage and into the basement of Honeydukes. He didn't even care when he went tearing up the stairs, boxes flying in every which direction and the salesperson at the front desk tried to stop him. He just ran.

He ran past every familiar store in the back of his brain until a familiar site became scarce. He didn't care. He just kept pumping his legs against the ground, running though his lungs were no longer able to take in air. 

He stopped once the paved road turned to one of a country looking one; dirt. The light all around him faded in what seemed like a split second. The path was cast with shadows that looked like ghosts of a distant past, longing to be forgotten and stuffed into a box and thrown into a space in the back of the mind. Harry stopped, falling to his knees. His feeble attempt at rising was in vain; for a second later he was back on the ground. The sharp rocks and bits of broken glass dug into his legs but he didn't care. He closed his eyes. 

_That was my dad. Oh god, that was my dad. _Harry leaned forward and hit his head on the ground in a blind rage. 

_Your dad's **dead. **He isn't coming back. _One part of him yelled.

_You've bloody well seen enough pictures to know that man was your father. _

**_He's dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. _**_Gone forever. Don't you understand that?_

_He was there. _

_It's just you. _

_Maybe._

Harry froze and sat up, just noticing that his glasses were not on his face. It was cold. He was crazy. First seeing his dead father, and then talking to himself. He felt something wet on his face and heard a choked sob. He was startled to find it came from him. He had heard about people who cry and only later know it was them. 

The salty water on his face was the result of his constant confusion. Not knowing what was going on all the time made him want to scream. Scream until the demons left him. Left him alone with nothing but the dirt road. And he did.

*

Sirius had been on his feet that whole night. Pacing. Carving a pathway in his living room he shared with Remus. James and Dumbledore were there too, although not as flustered. James was confused. Scared. Lost, just completely zoned out. Dumbledore was not of his usual demeanor. Not calm and collected. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, fisting the couch.

"We really should have known he would listen in. Harry's just like that." Sirius said, sighing and continuing his never ending journey around the room. 

"He seemed…_scared_ of me." James said in a distant voice, much like his facial expression. 

"Harry's just been cautious around people since-" Sirius stopped himself, gulping back the momentum of his train of thought. 

"Since…" James said. 

"We should contact the Aurors again. See if they've made any progress." Dumbledore said, motioning for Sirius to hand him a piece of parchment. 

"We should go to the Weasleys. Harry might have taken the Knight Bus there…" Sirius suggested, "Think about it, he's done it before." 

"Good idea. I'll go and the fireplace." Dumbledore said, turning his gaze to James, who had his head in his hands and was breathing rather quickly. 

*

Harry coughed, his fist to his mouth. His throat was raw and burning from screaming. He really didn't know where he got the energy to scream from. He had been running so hard for so long, and was finding it still hard to breathe. The late summer air was unusually chilly, partially due to the never ending plain of shadows and darkness. Harry guessed that even with the summer sun beating down upon the willow trees it would still be dark and shady. The trees' limbs reached out, as if trying to pull any passer-by into an endless abyss of untold secrets and lies. 

Harry moved from the road and sat down in the small ditch, clutching his shirt to his skin. 

_Why is it, everything I want in life, is everything that's missing? Sanity, family and something to have faith in? _

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. The walls surrounding everything that _had _to be kept a secret in his life were collapsing. Falling down, crushing the few happy times he cherished. The hairs on his arms stood up, as if rising to attention as Harry felt a bone chilling breeze.

_My father…my father…_

Harry shook his head angrily. 

_He was there….he was real._

_No!_

_You could smell him…see the face so not unlike your own…_

_He wasn't there…_

_NO!_

Harry covered his ears with palms in an angry gesture. He sobbed to himself. Deep down he knew he was there. He just didn't want to admit it. He was dead…but he was here. Someone has lied to him, purposely kept him lonely. 

_My dad is alive. I have a family… What if he doesn't want me? What if he just doesn't care? _

Harry cringed at the thought. That's just what he needed. Someone else not to care. Just to stand back and watch while he broke. 

_What if he's like…Uncle Vernon?_

Harry nearly choked on a sob at that point in his thoughts. He couldn't handle that. No way in hell would he go through that again.

*

Ron Weasley jumped up and out of his chair, knocking over several Exploding Snap cards. He definitely wasn't expecting his headmaster to come tumbling out of his fireplace at ten o'clock, the night before school started. 

"Mr. Weasley, I must say you've grown." Dumbledore said, causing Ron to blush in embarrassment. "I need to speak with your parents…preferably Arthur." 

"Erm…just a minute." Ron said. "Would you like to sit down?" Ron was surprised by his own politeness.

"No thank you. It's rather urgent business." Dumbledore said. Ron then got the idea and walked swiftly to get his father. 

"Dad?" Ron said, looking around his father's workroom. Arthur Weasley was bent under the table, seemingly adjusting wires, which were knotted and twisted in a ball on the floor. 

"Ron…hang on." Arthur's voice was muffled by the wall, as he had not turned around. He had memorized each child's voice my memory, except the twins on occasion. He bumped his head sharply getting back up.

"Dumbledore's here…says it's urgent." Ron said quickly. 

"OK. Why don't you go upstairs?" Ron growled at the thought of being left out of a very important conversation.

"Can't I know?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Ron." Arthur said sternly to his son.

_But satisfaction brought him back to life, _Ron thought, but didn't voice his opinion. He reluctantly left and climbed the stairs, purposely stomping as he went.

"Dumbledore? To what do I owe the pleasure?" Arthur asked, a slight smile on his face, as he rubbed the lump forming on his partially bald head. 

"Not due to good circumstances I'm afraid. Harry's run off. Again." Dumbledore said with a quiet sigh. Arthur crossed his arms.

"What? When?" 

"He was outside my office…and saw something that upset him. He ran off. I'm not aware how he got out of the castle. The paintings in the entrance hall didn't see him go. We've searched the castle over."

"Well…he hasn't been here. Maybe he's owled Ron… _RON!" _Arthur shouted up the stairs. In a moment, Ron was running down the stairs. 

"Yeah?" Ron asked, happy he was now needed.

"Has Harry owled you lately?" Dumbledore asked. 

"No…I haven't talked to him since earlier today in Diagon Alley." Ron said, "Why?" 

"He's run off." Arthur replied. 

"Run off! Again?" Ron asked. "Well…you know where he is right?" 

"No…and it's very dangerous for him to be out, with Voldemort's return. We must find him as soon as possible. He ran from Hogwarts, but the paintings said they didn't see him go out from the entrance hall." Dumbledore said and it clicked in Ron's mind. 

"I think I know where he is…" Ron started. "There's a secret passage. It leads to the basement of Honeydukes. He could have gone through there…" Ron said thoughtfully.

"Thank you Mr. Weasley. I need you to come to Hogwarts and show me where this passage is." Dumbledore suggested, leading Ron and Mr. Weasley to the fireplace.

*

"I can't believe they didn't find him yet…how far could he have gone? It's a long dash to the gates of Hogwarts!" Sirius exclaimed. 

"The paintings said they didn't see him go! I was the one who asked them! " James exclaimed. Both him and Sirius were pushing back their trip to yesteryear to find Harry. That was the top priority right now.

"I bet he used a secret passage." Sirius said. 

"He knows about those?" James asked, sitting up in his seat.

"Yeah." Sirius replied. "Which one do you reckon he's use?" 

"You're forgetting I've only seen my son twice in fourteen years. I don't know anything about him Sirius." James said the last sentence quietly, it sounded desperate. 

"I know, James. I'm sorry." Sirius said, resting his hand on his estranged friend's shoulder. It felt different. Perhaps it was just his posture.

"Why won't anyone tell me anything about him? Just anything! I have only talked to him once, but under horrible circumstances. Why did he have to face Voldemort when he was just fourteen? It's insane! _Why couldn't I be there_? Why wasn't I _ever_ there?" 

"James…you were dead. You couldn't do a thing about it. You died to save him and Lily, and don't you think it was worth it?" Sirius asked. 

"How was it worth it? As far as I know Harry's life could have been a living hell! Li's dead! She's not coming back! Never! If I had only fought harder…or Li and I could have run with Harry! We could have survived! It was stupidity on my part that killed Lily. She's gone…" James said, looking like he was going to break down, but didn't. The tear collected behind the barrier of his pride. 

"She is James. She's gone. We can't do anything to change that." Sirius said, and then asked the question that had been bugging him ever since the conversation turned to death.

"What's it like to die?" Sirius asked nervously. _Maybe it's too soon for him to be talking about this…_

"It's cold…There is no heaven. Not when you're sad. Not when you died the way I did." James said. "It wasn't completely awful, but it's different. No magic. You don't get to see the world of the living. All people who have lived a life of hate and malice are just…gone. Their souls just disappear. Powerful wizards, like Merlin, Gellert, and Giancarlo, , rule the land of the dead and keep the peace. Lily was happy…and at times I was, but I couldn't help thinking of what I left behind. Harry, you, Moony, everyone." James finished with a much needed breath. 

"I really didn't consider death to be like that." Sirius said.

"I know I was vague, but it's not what's important. We should be out and looking for Ha-" James was interrupted by Dumbledore, walking into the room. 

"Sirius. I have Mr. Weasley senior and junior with me. They are going to lead me to some "secret passages" might you have known of these?" Dumbledore asked. Sirius looked at the floor. 

"I hadn't thought of them until you had left…" 

"Never mind that. I must be going to Hogwarts. Please see that you two get some sleep. We'll find him soon." Dumbledore said, closing the door tightly behind him.

*

Harry was shivering in his too-short pants and his too-baggy shirt. The wind stung his bare ankles and face. He was sitting with his knees pulled tightly to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around them, in an attempt to keep himself warm. It was almost violent by the time it was completely dark. Harry couldn't see a thing. There were no lights coming from houses, no shine from the moon; just complete darkness.

_It's so cold. So dark. I'm all alone. _

He put his head on his knees, trying to block the wind's burning sensation. He thought it strange that though the wind was bone chilling, it burned. 

_So many things they'll never know, so many things remained unknown._

He couldn't comprehend how many things he wanted to tell Sirius now. He wanted to tell him everything. Would his dad want to know? Would he tell him? Anger rushed through his veins then. He was alive. He let me live the way I do, and didn't do a thing. He didn't care. Maybe it just wasn't worth it. Maybe it was just too much of a bother to go on. 

_I'm sorry, but I'm not coming home tonight._

Harry felt a tear fall. Not a sobbing, gut wrenching, bucket full of tears, just one. One solitary, meaningful tear. Harry looked up and screamed, screamed in anguish, in pain and in a last hopeful prayer.

"What's the point? What's the _fucking point? Huh_?!" Harry screamed at the tiny specks of the stars. The only answer was she loud ruffling of the grass in the wind and the sound of his own labored breathing. He had been hysterical all evening, but he couldn't stop himself. It was all so messed up.

_I'm sorry, but I'm not coming home tonight._

Harry stopped the scream digging it's way up his throat and breathed deeply.

"Calm down…at least you will die with them thinking your happy. Maybe the scars will just fade when I freeze or starve to death. Maybe I'll get eaten alive by mosquitoes or something…" Harry thought out loud. 

_I feel like my wings have been clipped. I feel restrained. Trapped in the darkness of the god forsaken…I don't even know where. My wings used to be the knife, or the small collection of happy memories I used to have. Now their clipped and lying in a bloody heap on the floor. Scabbed and crusty with blood by my feet. They used to float behind me, when the blood ran down my arm. Beautiful, transparent, a sense of freedom. Now, as they lay by my feet, I feel angry. Angry at my "father", Sirius, Dumbledore, everyone. Everything that lives and breathes on this earth. I step on my wings. Jump on them in pure anguish. It's all over…everything. _

Harry had never felt so miserable. Not during the Third Task, not even when Vernon would come home drunk and angry. He heaved a sigh. 

_My life is a lie. He's alive. He left me to suffer by myself in the cold metaphorical hell which is my life._

He felt so insignificant staring up at the sky. It was so great, and he was so small compared to it. It surely yielded more pain and suffering than a thousand lives could comprehend. All those tiny stars watched the world. All the hate, the sorrow. 

What did all those stars hold? Heaven? The past? The future? A sense of happiness just waiting to be unfurled? Who knows. _But whatever it may be, it was sure better than this_, Harry thought.

Harry sat straight up. Despite the darkness, cold and misery in the air, he was going to get out of here. He was going to go back home. That's all he wanted. Even though it has all been lies, secrets and untold pasts, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Sleep in his crisp white sheets. Lay his head down. 

He stood on shaky legs and walked forward, only to trip on something hard. He lost his glasses a long time ago, he remembered, but found he didn't care. It wouldn't help when it was all completely dark anyway. 

He stood again and walked. He felt the crunch of dirt and rocks under his boots and walked in what he imagined would be a straight line. 

*

"He expects us to sleep?" James asked, obviously perplexed by that idea. 

"Maybe _you _should. I mean…you've had a long couple of months, from what I've collected from Dumbledore. I promise to wake you if anything changes." Sirius suggested, not expecting his friends reply.

"_No_, Sirius, I won't. Harry's my son. He's lost. I'm going to help find him! I'm going to do everything I can to get him home!" James exclaimed over Sirius' protests. 

"Alright. Fine." Sirius reasoned, then a thought popped into his head. "How are you going to tell everyone you're alive?" 

"I don't know. Since Fudge know, I suppose it will be in the papers by morning. I'm surprised he hasn't broadcast the information yet." James said.

"Because that information has to do with Voldemort's return. He won't admit that the dark lord has risen, even if it will save lives." Sirius explained. 

"Bastard." James muttered. 

"Cheers to that." 

*

"So you're sure he would have gone through this one?" Arthur asked, once him, his son and Dumbledore were in the passage.

"Not entirely, but I think he would use this one. He has before." Ron explained, trudging deeper.

When they reached the end, the stepped out, Arthur nearly tumbling out due to the unexpected drop. 

"This is the basement of Honeydukes?" Arthur asked, straightening himself out. 

"Yup." Ron said, climbing the stairs but hesitated at the top. "It's late…so no one's working right now…right?" 

"I'm sure of it." Dumbledore said, stepping into the main floor of the shop. It was dark, and the store was locked and packed up for the night. The cashier was emptied. Dumbledore and the two Weasleys crept by quietly, hoping there wasn't some sort of a magical security alarm that could be triggered; causing them all to blow up. Ron was first to the door, but with the blowing-up idea still fresh in his mind, he was a little hesitant to open the door. Arthur pulled out his wand and quietly muttered "_alohamora_", causing the lock on the door to break open, and the door to swing ajar. They piled out, and were soon on the darkened and mostly deserted Hogsmeade Street. 

The Hogsmeade Ron saw before him was much different to what he was used to on weekends during the school year. It was dark, and lonely looking. Bonfires were lit in dumpsters beside the locked stores of the normally busy street. People were crouched over them, trying to warm themselves in the abnormal cool weather of the summer. They were dressed in rags. They seemed to be in black and white, no colour to their faces or expressions. Ron guessed them to be homeless beggars. The way the looked at the three as they passed caused their blood to freeze. It poured hatred and misery. Ron realized it couldn't be too wonderful where Harry was, wherever that may be. 

*

Harry breathed in the cool air. He felt it go down his throat and swell his lungs as he usually could when the air was cold. He was walking, or rather stumbling along helplessly. Aimlessly for lack of a better word. He was just as lost as he felt. He didn't even know if he was on the path that he had started on. Oh, what he would give to have his wand. Why did he leave it on the couch in the living room before Sirius took him to Hogwarts? Dumbledore told him to be prepared to expect the unexpected and never let his guard down. Such a simple task...

_I wish I could just sleep. Sleep and forget about it until I'm ready to face today. How can I face today when I can't even face yesterday? Let alone the future. _

Harry gasped and wrapped his folded his arms as a chilly breeze blew right into his face, blushing his cheeks. Sleep...

*

Sirius and James sat wordlessly. Nothing to say. Sirius thought this odd. He hadn't seen his friend in fourteen years. In fact, he had been dead and he still had nothing to say to him. He had a million and one questions, but didn't trust himself to ask.

"I've been waiting for so long to see Harry." James breathed. "He's god knows where now. I don't know if I'll ever see him now." 

"You have to have faith. It's the only thing we can do in a situation like this." Sirius explained. James laughed, though not pleasantly. 

"Look who's father of the year." James said sarcastically. "Nice to see you've been taking care of my family. Pushed Harry so far to the edge he ran away?" James asked with a twitch to the side of his mouth.

"James...don't be like that. I didn't raise Harry. I only looked after him this summer." Sirius explained, hoping James wouldn't ask the obvious question. 

"What? Who raised him then? Moony? I thought the ministry wouldn't let a werewolf raise a child." James said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Moony didn't raise him either James. It was Lily's sister and her husband, Vernon." Sirius said, closing his eyes, to avoid James' reaction.

"_What! That... bitch?" _James asked, growling. Sirius nodded. "They treat him alright?" 

Sirius swallowed hard. He knew this question was coming, and decided on the truth. Well, selective truth. He decided against telling him the shooting if he could avoid it.

"They beat him James. Real bad. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. I'm so sorry." Sirius said, wishing that it just never happened. For Harry's sake and James'.

James froze. Beat. What did that exactly mean? Beat? 

"What the fuck does that mean Sirius?" asked James expectantly.

"We found him in a closet...bleeding to death." _Don't say what from..._

"WHAT? Bleeding to...death? How? What?" James put his head in his hands. Trying hard to suppress the anger. Sirius swallowed and broke.

"His uncle...he shot him in the stomach with his rifle. We saved him. We got him to the hospital wing in Hogwarts in time." Sirius explained, trying to relieve some tension, but of course it didn't work. James jumped to his feet and walked aimlessly. He was shaking his head violently. 

"No! You're lying…I know you are…it's all lies…" James muttered over and over under his breath, although Sirius could still hear him. 

"James…" Sirius started, pulling him by the hem of his shirt back down to the couch. "Please listen to me, alright?"

James nodded, fidgeting with either sadness or anger, Sirius didn't know.

"Harry's been through a lot, but he's a strong kid. He's been through a lot, and it has affected him, but he'll be alright in the end." Sirius said, having rehearsed this over and over whenever another hardship popped up.

"He won't be alright if we don't find him." James said, trying to stand up but Sirius's hand was blocking him. "I _need _to find my son." 

"James…you saw the way Harry reacted seeing you before. If he's in a state right now it'll only make things worse. He must be so confused after seeing you. Think about it." Sirius said. 

"Are you sure he recognized me?" James asked, hoping Harry just had him confused with someone else and that his son would welcome him with open arms.

"I'm sure of it. He's got enough pictures of Lily and you." Sirius said with a smile. 

"He _does_?" James asked, moving a pillow onto his lap, holding it tightly. 

"Hagrid gave him an album from what I've gathered from him. He has pictures of you at the front and ones of him and his friends at the back." Sirius said. "I don't think Harry would appreciate me snooping in his room…but do you want to see the pictures?" Sirius asked, already knowing the answer. 

"Are you sure he won't mind?" 

"He doesn't have to know." Sirius said with a smirk before running up the stairs. 

_Please come home Harry._

_*_

"What's that?" Ron asked, noticing out of the corner of his eye a figure was moving towards them. Then it clicked. "Harry! _Harry!"_

The figure stopped. 

Still.

Unmoving.

Dumbledore took a step forward. "Show yourself Harry." He knew Harry would be angry, so wasn't being gentle. He had come to know that was the worst thing to do with Harry.

The figure stepped into the light of Mr. Weasley's wand. It was Harry. His face was pale with the cold and he wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes were dark and his gaze was frozen ahead. He didn't speak. Ron rushed forward. 

"Why'd you run away again? Are you _crazy?"_ Ron asked, desperately shaking Harry for an answer. "With You-Know-Who back and all…" 

This seemed to click Harry from his trance. His eyes jumped to Ron's.

"Leave me alone." His gaze moved to the others. "All of you." 

Dumbledore grabbed Harry's wrist when Harry tried to run away. Harry was trying hard not to cry. It was in his eyes. Ron had never been more confused.

"Let go of me. You lied to me." Harry said coldly. "You knew all along he was alive!" 

Mr. Weasley tried to pull Ron away from the scene, but it was hard. 

"Harry you must understand." Dumbledore started. "He wasn't alive all along. He was dead for fourteen years." 

"I saw him! He was there! You can't make excuses to hide me from the truth anymore! I'm not a child! I can handle whatever you have to tell me." Harry said, clenching his fists. 

"Harry...Please come back to Hogwarts and I will tell you everything." Dumbledore said, pulling Harry along, Mr. Weasley and Ron not far behind, very confused.

*

Sirius sat down with James, the album spread open, balancing on both of their laps. It was also serving the purpose of a scrap book of sorts. Inside, tucked away was letters from his friends and his journal, which on occasion of being out from under his pillow was tucked in there for what he thought was safe keeping. Putting aside all the loose odds and ends, Sirius flipped open to the first page. It was a note from Hagrid.

_Harry, _

_So you have something to remember them by. They were great people who loved you very much and would be proud of you today._

_-Hagrid_

James sighed. 

"He's right." James started. "I do love him…even though I don't know who he is." 

Sirius flipped to the first page.

"I think the first bunch of pages are from your wedding…then there are some from Hogwarts…" Sirius flipped straight to the back, knowing James wasn't wanting to visit his yesteryear today. The first one held Ron, Hermione and Harry in front of Hagrid's hut, smiling and waving brightly. 

"That's him…" James breathed, still amazed at the smaller version of himself. Lily's eyes were shining brightly back at him. 

"That's Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, his best friends." Sirius pointed to each figure as he said the name.

"Weasley? Arthur and Molly Weasley?" James asked. 

"Yeah. I only think you met Bill and Charlie." Sirius said. "They have seven kids now…quite a busy family." 

They flipped the page, as the last one was quite big. The next one held a picture of Ginny and Hermione. Ginny was unnoticeably making bunny ears behind Hermione's head. 

"That's Ron's sister Ginny…and that's Hermione again." Sirius pointed out. 

"What year is this?" James asked, looking at the two girls. Hermione looked different from in the last picture. 

"Second I think. Kids age fast these days." 

WHAM

"What in the name of Merlin was that?" James asked, standing up. 

"Owl I think." Sirius asked, quite used to it. He opened the window and a small barn owl hopped inside, standing on the ledge. He stuck his leg out and Sirius pulled off the letter. 

_Sirius and James,_

_He have found him just outside of Hogsmeade. We need the both of you here as soon as possible. We need to do some explaining. _

_-Albus Dumbledore_

"Who's it from?" James asked, hope rising. 

"Dumbledore. They've found him." Sirius said, patting James on the shoulder. "Our presence is required." 

Well, that's it for now. It shouldn't take long for the next update. Please forgive me. I just got a new computer and my mailing list was erased. **Please leave your emails again if you wish to be on it.**

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**No review responses this time. **

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	14. Seeing is Decieving

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First off, I just want to thank you all for helping me reach over 200 reviews. I have only your devotedness to this story to thank for that. This story has had the best responses than every one of my stories put together I'd say. 

The 200th review was submitted my pablo5280, so kudos to you, even though his review only consisted of "Continue." 

Thanks to everyone who has kept with this story thus far. I can only tell you that this story will not have a sequel and will not have a side story. It is itself. 

I know I may have sounded like this is the last chapter, but that is not so. I just haven't put in an AN in hardly any of my last chapters so I put one here. 

I finished OotP in one day because it was so good. I especially liked Harry's punishment in detention because I think it reflected self mutilation in a way, even though he was forced to do it. 

I will be considerate of others who haven't read the book and will shut up.

 **_Starseed_**

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**It Darkens as We End This Ride**

The sound of Sirius and James's feet pounding on the ground as they walked echoed throughout the castle walls, disturbing the once eerie peace that had settled in. Having received a Portkey with their letter that went off two minutes later, James and Sirius had arrived at the castle gates and were making their way up to Dumbledore's office at as fast a pace their walk could get. 

"I'm glad he's safe…I had no idea he'd just run off, although I should have expected it. Harry's very unpredictable at times." Sirius said, panting slightly, the back of his legs stinging from their fast pace. 

"Has he run off before?" James asked trying to catch up with Sirius after his pace suddenly quickened. Sirius chose not to answer the question, but James didn't push it, knowing full well Sirius's temper when he was forced into situations of the sort. 

They reached the passage to Dumbledore's office and Sirius pulled out the letter, having forgotten what the password was. 

"Erm…Cucumber Gummies." Sirius muttered, walking inside when it had cleared. James following closely behind, but James stopped him. 

"I think you should wait here for just a minute. Don't worry, I promise you'll get to see Harry soon. Tonight I promise." Sirius said, closing the door behind him. 

Inside he found Dumbledore at his desk and Harry in a chair facing it, back to him. Sirius suddenly felt angry. 

"What on _earth _were you _thinking?" Sirius started, pulling Harry by the shoulder, turning his face to his. "You could have been __killed! Or worse!" Sirius said,__ thinking suddenly of the Longbottoms._

Harry didn't speak, but dropped his gaze to the floor, his green eyes hidden by his dark eyelashes. 

"Look at me Harry." 

"Sirius, this isn't necessary at the moment. Everything has already been explained to Harry. I think his brain is swelled enough." Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his chair. 

"Everything?" Sirius asked amazed, it had taken him at least an hour to hear it and consume it, not including the long time afterward for all his questions. 

"Yes. Everything has been explained, so you might as well let Mr. Potter come inside." Dumbledore said, causing Harry to stiffen unnoticeably in his chair. 

"James! _James!_" Sirius exclaimed to the door. "Come in now!" 

The door swung open a crack and stood still there for a moment, before opening fully. James nearly fainted in shock. 

"_Harry?" _

His baby boy. His son. The same kid who smiled when he came home from work and cried when he had to leave again in the morning. The same kid who recovered from a nasty case of Dragonivitus when he was eleven months old. The same kid who nearly died on Hallowe'en. The same kid whom he saw at Voldemort's resurrection. The same kid who ran out on him hours before…

"_Holy shit." Harry said, his eyes never leaving his father. No one bothered to stop him from cursing as they usually did. Sirius gripped Harry's shoulder firmly, as if holding him together. _

"I-I…" James stuttered. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm so sorry I left you alone." James said, walking cautiously closer. 

"You died." Harry said bluntly. "You died. It's not your fault." Harry said awkwardly. The first thing he said to his own father was "you died." He felt stupid. 

"I left you to suffer with your Aunt and Uncle. That should have never happened." James breathed. 

As soon as he'd said it, he realized it was the wrong thing to say. Harry leapt from his chair and pointed an accusing finger at his Godfather.

"You _told_ him?" Harry asked, anger growing. "You fucking told him everything didn't you? No one was supposed to know about that! You knew that and you still told him!" Harry was shaking with anger. Sirius pushed him back into his chair before he could run off again, and Dumbledore put a locking charm of the door. 

"Now listen and listen closely. He's your _father. _He had to know. Other than that I've kept my promise to you. I haven't told anyone." Sirius reassured. 

"You think that makes me feel better? _"Oh, I only told someone you've only known for maybe five seconds. I don't give a damn about privacy. Let's make Harry's life public! Call the _Daily-Prophet!" Harry started in a mocking tone but was stopped when Sirius pushed him roughly and painfully hard into the chair.

 "Don't talk to me that way." Sirius said with an icy glare at Harry. Harry felt tears pickle his eyes but blinked them back, standing strong. 

"I'll talk to you whatever fucking way I want. You seem to be able to." 

"Watch your fucking language." Sirius said, not thinking about it. Harry swallowed, not thinking of the irony. 

"_Sirius, back to the matter at hand if you please, take a seat, both of you." Dumbledore said looking at Sirius and James. _

"Now Harry, I know it may seem hard at the moment and I know you have a lot going on right now, but I need you to _try _to behave for five minutes." Dumbledore said, a slight smile tugging on his lips. "As I was saying, Harry, you have an immense responsibility being the heir of Gryffindor and you must control your anger. You have very strong powers that could be revealed at any time and would be very dangerous if it were at a time when you were angry. Now you and James share a blood link and extraordinary powers, so you will work together, and only then will the light triumph over the dark." Dumbledore finished, taking in a much needed breath before continuing.

"Harry- I know this may seem sudden, but I think it's necessary to tell James of your past. Please leave out any aspects that you feel uncomfortable with, but you should really say everything crucial." Dumbledore said, staring at a not surprised Harry, but an annoyed one. He didn't object. 

"Where do you want me to start?" Harry asked not James but Dumbledore. 

"Start before Hogwarts." Dumbledore stated simply. Harry turned his gaze to his hands immediately and began to talk.

"Well…I lived with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. I can't remember much earlier than from when I was three or four, but those weren't exactly happy memories." He decided not to get into that.

"My Aunt was a real bitch, my Cousin was some fat-assed loser, and my Uncle…" Harry paused and didn't finish the sentence. 

"I was kept in the cupboard under the stairs for my whole life up to when I turned about twelve. I would accidentally do magic sometimes, but I would get in a lot of trouble for it." Harry remembered with a slight wince. 

He retold the story of his first year at Hogwarts; saving the Philosopher's Stone from the dark lord's clutches. He told of his second year; how he was shunned by most of the school because people thought he was the heir of Slytherin. He told not really to his father, but to his hands of killing the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and destroying the memory of Voldemort. James didn't flinch when the name was used. He told of his third year, purposely leaving out the part of his mother's screams during the Quidditch match. He told them of thinking of only wanting to kill Sirius, but realizing he was innocent. He told of his fourth year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament and being chosen as a champion. He told o the first and second task, but paused before telling of the third.

"Me and Cedric were both looking at the cup, I was attacked and I knew I couldn't run to get it. I told him to get it but he wouldn't. He told me I deserved it after saving his life. We ended up taking it at the same time, but the cup was a Portkey. It took us the graveyard where Voldemort's father was buried. He killed Cedric…and tied me to his father's gravestone. Wormtail took my blood, his father's bones, and then proceeded to cut off his own hand. He was back in power and made me duel with him. Then…I think you know what happens…" Harry said, not looking at his father, but James knew he was talking to him, even though he was in a deep state of shock. 

"Yeah." James said huskily, clearing his throat.

Harry swallowed. He knew what came next. Last summer.

"Please continue Harry." Dumbledore said, as if pushing his thoughts to his mouth. He knew he wasn't going to tell it all. It was the first time for all in the room to hear some of the things he was going to say.

"Grunnings; my Uncle's drilling company, laid him off and he blamed it on me. Aunt Petunia went into her room one day after a terrible fight with Vernon and I didn't see her come out. She stayed in there for months. I had to go in and clean their room once and I saw her. She was all bruised and she just sat there. Her eyes were open but I don't think she knew I was there. 

"Vernon got really violent with me after Petunia stopped coming out of her room. He didn't even care about anything anymore. He used to worry about the neighbors hearing, but now he'd scream at me and kicked me so hard he didn't care if I yelled. Then again I say you know what happened. Sirius told you, much against my wishes." Harry said coldly still not looking up. 

"Have you pressed charges?" James asked, looking at Harry, though not expecting to get a response. 

"No." Harry said simply. 

"Why _not? _Don't you want to…?" Dumbledore stopped James from getting him into a situation he would regret. 

"No charges have been made under Harry's insistence. If he wishes for that terrible part of his life to be over then I don't see why that can't be put behind him. Revenge isn't always the answer." Dumbledore explained. 

"I just hate to know I left you to that." James breathed.

"Well, Harry's been having a considerably better summer since then. He was bedridden for quite a while after his injury, but his friends scarcely left his side." Dumbledore said with a smile, trying to lighten the spirits in the room slightly. Harry knew the truth. 

_Better, but I was never happy. **Never. **_

Dumbledore saw the slightly angered look on Harry's face and thought it best to end the meeting for tonight. 

"You should sleep, Harry. You've had a long night. School starts tomorrow so you might as well sleep in Gryffindor Tower." Dumbledore said, taking the locking charm off the door. 

"Whatever." said Harry, standing sharply up and walking out of the room without a second glance or a 'goodnight'. 

"Harry's very confused right now. If his behavior reflects that in a negative way, it is not his fault. He doesn't mean whatever he does." Dumbledore assured James. James still looked unnerved. 

"Dumbledore…I have some concerns…" Sirius said, shifting slightly in his seat. This had been eating away at him ever since Harry had come out of the hospital wing. 

"Should I go?" James asked, feeling a little lost, but proposed the idea anyways. 

"Does this concern have to do with Harry?" Dumbledore asked, leaning toward Sirius. 

"Well…yes…but…this isn't a very happy subject. I don't think James should…" Sirius started. 

"If it has to do with Harry, then I will not leave James out of the conversation. He needs to know his son, and with that comes some things I know he's not going to want to hear." Dumbledore said, glancing at James with a sorrowful expression. 

"Fine I'll tell." Sirius said inhaling sharply. "When Harry was recovering in the Hospital wing earlier this summer, Madam Pomfrey confronted me some concerns of hers. She was worried that Harry might have been harming himself. He's always so cryptic at home, so that only adds to my worry." Sirius said.

"What exactly did Poppy say?" Dumbledore asked, his face looking older and worn. 

"She said she found some cuts -some needing stitches- on his wrists and forearms. She said she thought they may have been self-inflicted." Sirius explained, not daring to look at James. 

"Have you talked to him about it or found cuts on his arms?" Dumbledore asked, looking deeply saddened. 

"No…" Sirius said simply. 

"I will look into this, but with Harry in the state that he is in now it may be wise to only confront him about it if we have any recent reasons to expect self-abuse." Dumbledore said, sounding like he pulled it out of counseling magazine. 

 "What? You honestly think Harry is doing this?" James asked, as if this had all been some joke, some punch line he missed somewhere along the way.

"I personally hope it's not true, but we have no choice but to expect it. Harry has seen and been through a lot and we can just hope he didn't learn to cope the wrong way." Dumbledore said.

"Since school starts tomorrow, do you think it would be wise to advise Ron and Hermione to look out for _certain _things?" Sirius asked, praying the cuts on his Godson's wrist months ago were just another fruit of Vernon's anger.

"Do _you_ think that would be wise?" Dumbledore asked; face showing no emotion, something rarely seen.

"I don't know. I'm no longer his guardian." Sirius said, a bit of jealously in his voice, though not comprehendible to James. 

"James?" Dumbledore said, leaning towards his former student. James hadn't taken his eyes off the small window in the office. 

"I don't know." James said, face flushing with embarrassment. He couldn't go from being a father of an infant to being a father of a teenager so suddenly. He didn't know what to do. "I…I can't make this decision." 

"Very well then," Dumbledore said, standing. "You may stay the night here if you wish."

"I'm just going to head back. Moony's probably escaped and reining havoc about the town." Sirius joked lightly. James looked to the sky and saw the full moon. 

"James? You coming or staying?" Sirius asked, bringing James out of his reverie.

"Coming," James said grabbing his new wand from Dumbledore's desk. He and Sirius left by Portkey and landed firmly in the living room. 

"Are you tired? You should probably sleep," Sirius advised. James looked astounded. He turned to look at Sirius with cold, sad eyes. 

"I don't think I'll ever sleep again." James proclaimed. "Not after I found out my son abused, shot and is now suicidal." James said plopping down on the couch. He laughed a very high pitched snort. "I leave for fourteen years and look what happened." 

"Just because Harry _may _be cutting himself doesn't necessarily mean he's suicidal." Sirius explained. James laughed again. 

"No, of course not! It's just a bad habit…just like biting his nails or something!" James exclaimed sarcastically. 

"James…we could be mistaken…" Sirius said, trying to calm his friend down. 

"The hell we are! I wouldn't be surprised if he did! His life's a fucking hell as far as I'm concerned!" James yelled.

"Could you at least keep your ranting quiet?" Sirius asked walking towards the door to the basement stairs. "It's the full moon and if Remus hears us he'll be bursting a gut to get up here and rip us to shreds." Sirius said sternly. He sighed and joined James back on the couch. 

*

Harry was nearly dying without his journal tonight. He settled for a piece of parchment in which he could just stuff into the folds of the book later. 

_Dear Journal,_

_It's moments like these that make therapists wealthy, I suppose. I can no longer pretend like he's just a figment of my imagination, or a cruel trick of the dark forces. I was forced into an indirect conversation, reviewing my life in full to someone I barely know, but supposedly share blood with. _

_I find it quite amazing that the one person I'm supposed to be closest to, I feel furthest away from. This is what I've always wanted, and yet I can't bring myself to give in and trust him. Trust is an unknown dimension in my world. As is privacy, sanity and…love. _

_That word seems alien to me, but I suppose it fits. I say that a lot now; I suppose. I guess that means I don't know anything for sure anymore. Not that I ever did. I don't even know who I am. _

_Someday when I'm dead, will they all think of me? How I used to be? Before the world got to me? Ripped me of the only thing I used to have? Sanity… I can't even trust my own thoughts. I'm not crazy per say. I'm just ailing…confused…self destructive. _

_And that's how it's going to be. _

_-Harry_

_ __________________________________________

September first was a day of excitement, reuniting and joy for most on a beautiful summer's day as such. The sun reflecting through the skylights on platform nine and three-quarters cast a glow to the scarlet steam engine. It was filled to the rafters with students exclaiming "how did you get so tall?" and "I _tried to owl you this summer!" _

Adults in the crowded space were throwing hugs to each son or daughter they could get a grip on and chatting to other parents about the economy, the ministry and "by the way, how much were those _lovely_ earrings?" 

All but one student was there. 

Hermione packed her trunk away in the overhead compartment and exited the train. She was looking for any sign of her two best friends. She had been here at ten thirty on the dot, since her parents had to be at work earlier. She knew Ron and Harry, whether together or not, would come much later. She still felt as though she should be waiting. 

"Hermione! I didn't see you!" Parvati screeched in her usual obnoxious voice. Hermione turned, and tried with all her might not to roll her eyes and stamp her foot at the other girl. She smiled for the sake of politeness. 

"Hey how was you summer? A little get together with _Viktor Krum?" Parvati asked, Padma stalking up behind her sister, a look of interest on her face. _

"My summer was fine thank you." Hermione said, turning and walking off in the other direction. In her opinion, smoke should be rising from her ears. A flash of red caught her attention. She spun to her right; where the flash had came from and dashed over, grabbing the tallest of the large red-headed family. Ron jumped back, but hugged her back awkwardly. 

"Harry didn't come with you?" Hermione asked, "Is Sirius bringing him later?" 

"Nope he's already at Hogwarts." Ron said simply, and then it seemed as if hell had frozen over, hundreds of questions were thrown at him, and Hermione was advancing on him so fast he almost tripped under the pressure. 

"_What? Why is he there? Is he hurt? What happened to him? Was it You-Know-Who? Is he going to be OK?" Her flippant speech made it hard for Ron to understand. _

"He ran away last night and Dumbledore thought I would know where he was. We found him outside of Hogsmeade. Me and Dad had to go home then, so I don't know what happened after that. Dad just said that Harry was staying at Hogwarts and that he'd meet us there." Ron explained. 

"Why are Dumbledore and everyone so cryptic these days?" Hermione asked, completely flustered and frustrated. 

"I don't know." Ron shrugged walking towards the steam engine. 

Once inside the untarnished, surprisingly cleanly compartment, Ron found to his own annoyance, Hermione's worried gestures. She was wringing her shirt hem with both hands, and humming to herself in a demoralizing manner. 

"_Hermione." Ron said agitated by her consistency to agonize every little thing that concerned Harry. She paid him no heed, but instead, looked out the window, watching intently as trees zoomed by. Ron sighed. _

"He'll be alright, you know." Ron said, hoping to incite a conversation, whether stressful a subject or not. 

"How do we know? He won't tell us anything anymore! He could be over there…depressed and lonely and we aren't doing anything about it!" Hermione cried, gripping the pleather seats decisively. She sighed and released the tension slightly. 

"-Or I'm being paranoid." She crossed her legs and put her hands on her knees in an endeavor to calm her shaky position.

"I'd say." Ron offered, closing his eyes. Sleep _is better than being awake to Hermione in one of her…moods._ He told himself with a slight smile tugging on his mouth. It went unnoticed to Hermione as she fiddled hastily with the wrinkles on her skirt. She looked over to Ron sleeping peacefully on the opposite side of the compartment. He was so ignorant to what may be going on with Harry, or he was just not bothering with it. 

This didn't help her precarious state either. Ron and Harry's friendship was shaky at times, and it didn't need to be pushed any further by Ron's actions. She felt at times Ron's behavior was a little too liberal. He should be careful what he says around Harry nowadays. Harry was in an unstable stage in his life and he was looking for something to cling onto. He didn't want him to grasp false hopes that Ron understood when he may not. 

*

"Ron, wake up." Hermione said, shaking his shoulders slightly. He swatted her away but sat up. His eyes were half open and his hair stood on end.

"Huh?" He muttered, almost incoherently. 

"We're here, come on." Hermione said, hauling Ron out of the seat. He followed her out of the train mind not registering much of anything. 

Harry was leaning in the doorway to the Great Hall when Ron and Hermione walked in. They noticed that he was a little paler than usual, but he had a lopsided smile on his face which overpowered their worries. Hermione flung her arms around him and hugged him, which seemed to slay her worries. 

"I was so worried when Ron said you weren't on the train!" She pulled back and her expression turned stern.

"What a stupid thing to do! Running away! What if-" 

"Hermione, I could write a book with all the 'what ifs' but frankly, I don't care." said Harry. 

"I'm just concerned…" Hermione said, as her, Harry and Ron began to walk into the Great Hall. 

"You don't need to be." Harry said in a final way. Ron cleared his throat, but before he could change the subject, a familiar sneer came from behind them. They whipped around.

"Well, well, well look who decided to show up." Malfoy said, as if Harry had just gotten there. "I heard some…_very _interesting things about your summer from my father. It seems you-" 

"You don't know anything about me Malfoy. Whatever your father said is a lie." Harry said. _How would he know anything? What did he know? Uncle Vernon? Sirius and Remus? My father?_

"We'll see won't we?" Malfoy said, before turning around and walking to the Slytherin table without a backward glance. 

"What in Merlin's name was that about?" Ron asked, once they were seated. They tried to sit as alone as possible, or next to someone whom knew nothing about them. It seemed a couple of second years were the best choice. They didn't even notice they had talked through the entire Sorting Ceremony. 

"I don't know. What does he _think _he knows?" Harry asked. 

"Relax. It's probably nothing. A scheme to get us to spill our secrets. Why does he care anyway?" asked Hermione. "Nothing we keep secret would have any interest to Malfoy." 

"Of course it does!" Ron exclaimed, as some second years turned their head to watch. "Malfoy only cares about making our lives a living hell. Anything he can find out about us will be like gold to him!" 

"Welcome, welcome." Dumbledore said, gesturing to the first years, and causing the whole of the Great Hall to cease their talking. 

"For all of you, this year will be much different. The world is changing, for the worse I'm afraid, but these times bring us together. Whether you believe or not, it is your decision." 

Dumbledore cleared his throat before continuing. 

"On a lighter note, we have a new student in our midst. She will be joining the fifth year Slytherins, as she has been sorted before the term began. Ms. Jessica Li Ming is joining us from China. Her father; Min Li Ming, is the Ambassador. I hope you will all make her feel welcome." Dumbledore said, casting his gaze towards a small girl in the corner, sitting by herself on one end of the Slytherin table. 

She was short with long ebony hair, but what caught most people's attention, even those in the back of the room, was the fact that her eyes were black. Not a shade of brown like most dark eyes, but completely black. Her hair fell past her shoulders and she seemed to slink back in her chair when she realized everyone's gaze was on her. She blinked a couple time at the Headmaster, urging him, begging him to go on so the topic could change. She said nothing, but the Headmaster complied.

"As you may have noticed, the Tri-Wizard Tournament is over, leaving room for Quidditch once again. I won't waste anymore of your time when I know all of your stomachs are growling." With a clap of his hands, the Headmaster filled each table with plump fruit, boiling vegetables and steaming stews. 

Harry couldn't take his eyes off the new Asian girl. She wasn't a veela, but Harry felt drawn to her. She didn't eat much, and just stared at her plate when Pansy tried to talk to her. Pansy immediately turned up her nose and huffed, before whispering something to her neighbor. 

"Can you possibly stare at her any longer?" Ron asked, with a snicker. Harry snapped out of his stupor, with a sudden flush rushing into his cheeks. 

"She _is _a Slytherin Harry." Ron said. 

"Yeah…" Harry mumbled, looking back to the new girl out of the corner of his eye. 

*

"You're _him_." A soft voice said, cutting through the chatter of students piling out of the Great Hall. Harry whipped around. It was the new girl. 

"Oh…you're the new girl…Jessica?" Harry said, trying to remember her voice. It sounded local, from Britain at least. He was expecting a strong, heavy Chinese accent if she ever talked. 

"Jessica is the name my parents gave me, but not the one I choose to be referred to as. Call me Chan." She said, leaning against the wall, bouncing against it slightly, hitting her back on it. 

"Oh…I'm-"

"Everyone knows who you are, even if you don't live here." Chan said, stepping forward slightly. 

"I thought you did. You sound like you are." Harry said, surprising himself with his own stupidity. He wished Ron and Hermione hadn't gone ahead. 

"I _was. _Now I live in Shanghai with my dad." she said, playing with the side of her skirt a bit. 

"Oh…" _Stupid. _"Listen…Chan, I'll see you later, OK?" said Harry, trying to avoid another stupid comment from his own mouth. 

"Sure. See you, Harry." Chan said, using his name for the first time. He smiled slightly as he walked off. 

*

When he entered the Gryffindor common room, Ron was sitting on the couch, but Hermione was no where in sight. 

"What _took_ you?"   Ron asked, looking ridiculously exasperated. Harry sighed. 

"I just stopped to talk to the new girl…Chan." Harry said, wishing someone would break through a window in the tower and hit Ron square in the face, wishing for anything to change the subject. 

"_Chan? I thought her name was Jessica." Ron said._

"I don't know…she said she liked to be called Chan." Harry said.

"Oh…OK…" Ron said causing one eyebrow rose suddenly. 

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, breaking away expertly from the last topic. 

"Um…she said she was tired or something…I wasn't listening." Ron said, trying to pry the memory from the back of his psyche. 

"I guess I'll just go to sleep too. I'm pretty tired." Harry said, turning and going up the stairs before Ron could even answer. He wasn't mad; for once in his life he was tired. Not of life, he just wanted to sleep. 

________________________

I know it seemed like Harry was crushing on Chan, and I promised H/Hr. It will END H/Hr, but it will not necessarily be that way throughout the story. This new girl has a dark past too. (CoughSlytherinCough)

I am going to Windsor to go to a concert my father is playing at. He's opening for The Guess Who and Chantal Kreviazuk. After that I'm going to Europe, for a _long _time. 

I don't know when I'm going to have another chapter up. Please don't hate me if I don't get the next chapter up. It might be short. My summer is going to be fucking clown shoes. 

I typed this, now it's time for you to do something for me {[ !!REVIEW!!]}

Quid pro quo!


	15. I've Fallen Back Under the Equator

Ok, first kudos to all who reviewed. I decided to do a review response thing. This will be huge, considering I haven't done this in a while. I managed to answer some of people's questions, because some people ask me on either AOL or MSN. It's all good. 

Phew. Ok, furthermore kudos to Skylar, who reviewed every one of my chapters. Thank you, thank you x a million. 

This is coming much later than the 27th because I was extremely jet-lagged. I was bouncing off the walls and licking the floor at five am. 

All I can say about my holiday is, if you go to Paris and don't have a British accent, fake it. French-Arabic people spit on you. I had just come from London, so it might have been slight but meh…the spitting was there. An Arabic dentist threatened to pull out our teeth because we didn't speak French.

And to top it all off, the flight stopped in Montreal, so we didn't get out of the French then either. 

I'm listening to Give Peace a Chance by Lennon. I'm thinking of becoming a peace activist, going to protests and all of that. 

But we're not here to discuss politics, so I have no choice to continue. 

Sorry about the Mary Sue. I feel no shame in telling you she dies in like two chapters. I had to kill someone.

**Remember, I am just sitting in my basement, listening to New Found Glory and waiting for reviews.**

I'm going to the Warped Tour in Barrie on the second!

So anyways…I says to Mabel I says...

//I've Fallen Back Under the Equator//

_blackenedsoul_

The fall of ninety-four came without warning as the leaves yellowed and fell and the sky turned a distinct colour of grey. The grass of the Hogwarts grounds was wilting and turning colourless for the inevitable snow. Scarves were taken out of their prisons and wrapped tightly around the students as the winter air swept through from the north. Most students were outside, but mostly just to avoid McGonagall or their respective head of houses'. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione were lying on the grass, propped up by their elbows. When they didn't have a lot to talk about, they did what any sensible teenager would do; they complained. 

"It's too cold out here. What right does McGonagall have to keep us outside at this time of year?"  Ron asked, although not shivering. 

"It's only mid October. It's just unseasonable cold. I think we're in for a long winter." Hermione said. 

"Harry, can I asked you something?" Ron asked, breaking Harry out of his reverie. He hadn't really been paying attention to anything in weeks. 

"Huh? Oh…yeah sure." 

"What's with you and Asian girls?" Ron asked, causing both Harry and Hermione to laugh.

"I wish _I_ knew." Harry said chuckling again. The silence set in again and Ron groaned. 

"Fuck McGonagall. This is so boring." Ron whined. Hermione rolled her eyes but Ron caught her. She tried to cover it up by looking at the clouds. "No one else is doing anything either. Look!" Ron exclaimed, gesturing to the hundreds of students sitting on the crisp grass, seemingly doing nothing. 

"Sometimes it's nice to do nothing." Hermione said leaning back fully on the grass. Harry and Ron fell back too. 

"Have you heard from Sirius lately?" Ron asked, sure no one was around them.

"He was here last week." Harry said. Sirius was here with James. They had regular meetings. Dumbledore thought this would get Harry to trust James. _Fat chance._

"He was here? Why?" Hermione asked, sitting up to face Harry. He still hadn't told his friends about his father and didn't plan to. At least for a while. 

"Oh…er, just to check up on me I guess." Harry said. 

"Are you OK?" Hermione asked. Harry frowned.

"What do you mean? I'm fine." Harry said with a laugh.

"Then why is he checking up on you? Is it your scar?" She interrogated. 

"No. He's just paranoid I guess." Harry said, saving himself from further questioning. 

The next day Harry found himself unconsciously dozing off in Divination. The Professor's misty voice was muffled by his never-ending stream of thoughts. Harry almost fell off his chair when Ron poked him in the ribs. 

"Don't want to fall asleep, mate. You might never wake up." Ron said snickering. Today was a lecture, preparing the students for Metoposcopy; the study of forehead wrinkles. Ron nearly had a fit laughing when he heard this for the first time. 

"First they say you can see the future through tea leaves in a cup, and then they tell you, you can _unfog the future _through the lines in your head! How thick can you get?" Lavender had stalked up then with her index finger pressing painfully hard into his ribs.

"If you had been paying attention, which I'm sure you haven't been," Lavender said a bit too dramatically. "Then you would have known that you _don't _see into the future. It merely shows you things about the person you are looking at." Lavender said, earning a smile from Professor Trelawney. 

"It's _lines. _In your _head._" Ron said.

"Well…if it's just lines…you wouldn't mind us looking at yours would you?" Professor Trelawney suggested heaving Ron up from his seat. "Just as a demonstration." 

"I don't think so." Ron said, but Trelawney had already started her inspection. Ron looked very uncomfortable at her being so close. 

"Hmm…let's see. I haven't done this in a while, you remember. OK, Mr. Weasley." Trelawney gave many hmms and OKs until she started.

"It seems to me like you're a worrier. Get frightened easily…Oh, yes, and you must laugh often, as it practically screams at you with those lines there. Oh my, expect to die at a young age, Mr. Weasley." 

"Yeah right! You can't see that in my head! You said it couldn't see into the future!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. 

"You've got a knack for trouble Mr. Weasley. Eventually, death is inevitable." Trelawney said quietly. "Class dismissed!" She said much louder than expected, causing everyone to jump as they ran out of the room. 

Harry noticed Ron was pale. 

"Ron, she says that to me too. I'm not dead yet." Harry said. Ron nodded.

"I know…it's just not a happy moment when someone says you're going to die."  Ron breathed with a laugh. 

_Dear Journal,_

_I think Ron and Hermione are getting suspicious, every Monday when I sneak off to Dumbledore's office. I shouldn't really say sneak since all the fifth year boys know I go off some place every week. Ron's been bugging me about it. Hermione's trying to figure it out for herself. I don't want either of them to know. _

_Back to my life…hmm…nothing to say. Only cut once last night in a week and I've been thinking a lot. Hermione thinks I have a short attention span because I'm talking…and then stare at the wall. I don't even know I'm doing it! I'm just way ahead of myself in my thoughts. I'd write more but we have to scrape the leftovers of our Quidditch team together. With Wood gone, I don't know if we'll get the cup this year._

_-Harry [16.10.04]_

"Ravenclaw's got the pitch until five; you have to wait for a half an hour." Ron said once Harry had met him on the field. It looked like they were going through the tryout stage. Dozens of hopefuls were lined up a quarter of the field. Most were younger; in their second year. The populaces of the group were boys, but a group of girls standing at the back. They apparently needed a beater, because bludgers were being whipped in every which direction. Three of the current team that were hurtling the bludgers, were Cho, Roger and another new player that Harry didn't know. Harry, Ron, Fred and George sat on the grass laughing as each Ravenclaw was either almost hit or gave up. 

"Jessica Li-Ming!"  Harry and Ron's heads picked up as they saw her mount her broom and kick off from the ground. She came to a stop twenty yards away from the three testers. Her black hair was whipping all around her face, probably making it hard for her to see. The wind had picked up significantly mid-afternoon. Harry watched intently, as bludgers were hurtled at her. She charged forward with her bat, catching the better half of them. On number nine she dove slightly and hit it before falling off her broom. She had only been two five feet from the ground, so it wasn't painful. She sat up on her elbows, spurting grass from her mouth before getting up. Mud from the early morning rain coated her robes as she stalked off. 

"Good job!" Cho yelled down at her, laughing. Chan turned and gave her the finger before walking back to the castle to get cleaned up. 

"Bit odd isn't she?" Ron said, giving her a sideways glance, tilting his head. 

"Ah…all girls are." Fred said plucking grass from the ground in clumps. 

"Merlin, how many people are trying out?" Ron exclaimed pointing to the line, which looked like it hadn't been touched yet. 

"Well, I'm sleeping. I was up all night. I think there might be werewolves in the forest." George said with a shiver as he lay back. Harry took out a roll of parchment, quill and ink from his rucksack. 

"Homework? Merlin, Harry." Ron said, leaning back too.

"It's not homework. I'm just doodling. Anyways, someone has to stay awake. The rest of the team went inside until we get started."  
  


Harry rolled his eyes when he got no answer. After scribbling for a few minutes, his parchment was full with scribbles. He could only make out one poem, though he could only guess he had about another five hidden underneath the crossings and slashes.

_Waking up wounded_

_Walking with myself_

_Talking with a memory_

_Can't let go of itself_

_And I'm trying again_

_Let me out of this_

_I'm fighting myself_

_It's hit or miss_

_I'm screaming in my skin_

_Letting go of it all…_

_Zoned out and reaching_

_Rocks in my knees_

_Bleeding and crawling_

_And begging you please_

_I can't find myself anymore_

_And I'm trying again_

_Let me out of this_

_I'm fighting myself_

_It's hit or miss_

_I'm screaming in my skin_

_Letting go of it all…_

_Screaming at me_

_"It's all over now..."_

_Why won't someone wake me up?_

_I'm letting go…_

Harry was jolted out of his world of paper and ink as the Ravenclaws walked past him. 

"Sleeping Weasley?" Roger yelled over to George, who sat up abruptly.

"Oh…sure…" George said, hauling himself from the ground. "Pitch all ours?" 

"Yeah," Roger said. "Bit slippery on the mud though. I wouldn't fly low. Nice and soft if you fall though." 

"See you, Ron." Harry said, kicking off and joining Katie, Alicia and Angelina. Fred and George in tow.

"Don't fall, now!" Ron yelled up. In turn, Harry threw the Quaffel at him, which Ron caught, falling backwards. The team flew down.

"How in the name of Merlin did you manage to catch _that?" Katie asked, hopping off her broom._

"_Well_, when something's aimed at your _head _then it's sort of an instinct." Ron said throwing the Quaffel back at Harry.

"Can you do that on a broom?" Alicia asked. 

"I'm not stupid. I know you want me to be Keeper, but I won't do it." Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Ron, what the hell? You love Quidditch!"  Harry exclaimed.

"I'll talk to you later, Harry." Ron said turning around. Harry attempted to run after him but Alicia's voice stopped him.

"Oh, just let him be like that. He's being perverse. He'll come around." She said, like she was his second sister. 

"We have to have tryouts. He might not come around before the season starts. I, personally, am not waiting for him." Katie said turning and leaving.

"This will all get better when we get a new captain." Angelina said with a puffing sigh. Harry, however, could not be as optimistic.

After dinner, Harry, Hermione and Ron dared to venture into the kitchens. Hermione was desperate to view the current living conditions for the elves. Ron and Harry were pulled along. Harry just wanted a chance to talk to Ron. Ron had been acting like nothing had happened. 

"Harry, with the way this is going, we'll be here all night. You'd better go get the invisibility cloak." Ron suggested. Harry knew that Ron knew Harry's eagerness to start the conversation about Quidditch, but was stalling. 

"Fine, whatever." Harry said, slamming the door behind him. He hated it when Ron was like this. 

Walking along the halls alone at night while in a fit of rage wasn't the smartest thing to do. One wrong movement and Mrs. Norris and Filch would be bounding down the hallway after him, the smell of fresh meat in their noses. A quiet scuffling of feet echoed from somewhere behind. Harry whipped around, to be met with undisturbed nothingness. His eyes shifted wildly about the scene behind him but could find nothing suspicious. He hesitated to turn around, but he did and kept walking, considerably faster this time. Harry's heart literally stopped pumping in his chest when he heard the unceasing footsteps behind him. Running. He couldn't see anyone. The footfalls were coming from nowhere. They were getting closer. The hairs on the nape of Harry's neck were standing on end. He was stumbling frantically. The footfalls sounded so close; like the person should be right in front of him. Harry could no longer keep himself from yelling.

"Who's there?" He said, his voice unintentionally breaking, sounding like a dying cat. "Come out!"

The air was disturbed somewhere behind him and he whipped around a hand came flying to his mouth. He struggled kicking, biting, anything. A hand whipped him around completely. Harry gasped as he looked into the eyes of his attacker.

"Sirius! You asshole!" Harry yelled, sinking slightly in relief.

"Watch the language in the school, huh?" Sirius said urgently. Harry nodded. "Calm down will you?"    

"Sirius, when you have at least a dozen people out for your neck it's an instinct to act rationally. Panicking, in this case, is rational." Harry stated. 

"It's Monday, you never showed up." Sirius said. "We had an agreement, remember?" Harry sighed. 

"Oh bugger! I forgot! What time is it?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know. I'd say you're only fifteen minutes late. I've looked all through Gryffindor tower." Sirius said with a sigh of impatience. "Why weren't you in the tower?" 

"Sorry, Hermione dragged me and Ron down to the kitchens to check out the 'current living conditions of the elves.'" Harry said in a mocking voice. 

"Sounds like a ball. We better go." Sirius added hearing the distant mewing of Mrs. Norris. They took off at break-neck speed for Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was waiting by the entrance. Not a word was exchanged as Dumbledore ushered them into his office. 

"Sorry I'm late, sir." Harry said, taking a seat as far away from his father as possible. 

"No worries, Harry." Dumbledore said. "What would you like to talk about?" 

"I don't know." Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. _It's going to be a long night…_

"Harry I wish to talk to you about the impending preliminary hearing. James, in the flesh, is the best evidence of Sirius' innocence we could get. He has already proven to the ministry that he is, in fact, James Potter. Minister Fudge does have his doubts but he cannot deny the facts.

"The preliminary hearing will take place in five days time. –Have your Saturday free Harry- We will present our case to the court. Sirius will be placed in custody until the hearing. It's just a holding cell in the Ministry, nothing to worry about." Dumbledore said. Sirius relaxed considerably. 

"When will he leave?" Harry asked.

"Tomorrow morning." Dumbledore said. 

"That _soon?"_ Harry asked incredulously. 

"It's necessary." Dumbledore said. He was starting to realize that whatever conversation was put forth, James and Harry still did not acknowledge each other's presence. 

"James, you will remain with Remus until the trial is over. This may take a couple of months-" Dumbledore started.

"_Months_?" Harry exclaimed. 

"The judicial system is just as slow here- maybe even slower- than in the Muggle world. I expect only six weeks." Dumbledore said. Harry sighed. 

"Can I go back to Gryffindor tower now? I sort of left Ron and Hermione." Harry said. 

"Yes, yes." Dumbledore said. "Goodnight Mr. Potter." 

"'Night, sir." Harry purposely didn't acknowledge Sirius or James. If he said goodnight to Sirius, it would make for an awkward moment. He swept from the room silently. Sirius turned to Dumbledore. 

"I'm going to tell Ron and Hermione." Sirius stated in a final manner. "This whole cryptic thing has gone on long enough."

"Sirius, those marks could have been caused by his uncle. You saw first hand the damage-"

"Dumbledore, I hardly ever doubt your judgment, but that's just plain stupid." Sirius said. 

Dumbledore laughed. "Maybe, but do you think it wise to inform his friends about this?"

"I'll talk to him," James said. Sirius whipped around.

"Are you sure? You've only ever spoken to him when it was forced. He hardly knows you and it might not be best for you to talk to him about such a sensitive topic." Sirius looked anxious. "You could do more harm than good." 

"I'm supposed to be his father," James said. 

"It'll take time, James. This kid's been having makeshift fathers ever since he was thirteen." Sirius sighed. "He doesn't trust people easily." 

"He trusts you," James said.

"He almost killed me, you know." Sirius laughed. "I'll talk to him."   

"Now, I don't want you to ask him if he is hurting himself, I want you to ask him if there's anything he needs to tell you. Push only gently. Harry runs, and he is very good at it. I think it wise to do it now." Dumbledore said, staring at the clock on the wall. Ten o'clock. 

"_Now_?" Sirius asked. 

"Now." 

Ron and Hermione were a little mad that he had deserted them in the kitchens, but Harry said there was somewhere he had to be. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron scoffed angrily. 

"_I had to be somewhere. I had to do something. _Blah, blah, blah." Ron said in a mocking tone. "That load of shit is getting old. You _can tell us where you've been, you know." Ron said urgently. _

"Northern stars aren't for southern eyes, Ron." Harry said.

"What the bloody _hell _is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. Hermione was looking between the two of them, wanting to stop them but not daring to interfere. 

"It means there are things that you just won't understand!" Harry exclaimed. "Do you not understand anything? Am I talking to a fucking doorknob?" 

"If you go around saying shit like that, no one will know what you're saying. Stars have nothing to do with this, Harry." Ron said, turning to Hermione and laughing.

"_Metaphorical _stars, Ron." Harry said. "Don't get on my fucking case if all you want to do interrogate me." Harry warned. He was sick of everything to do with Ron right now. He wanted to hit him so bad but he ran up to the dormitory instead, settling for pushing Ron roughly as he went. He flopped down on the bed and screamed into his pillow. Harry hadn't even realized he wasn't alone in the room until a familiar voice stopped his muffled screams. 

"Harry? Are you possessed by a banshee or something?" Seamus laughed. 

Harry didn't answer, but sighed. Seamus laughed. 

"I heard you and Ron. Get into another row?" Seamus asked, sitting back, as if to listen to something good. 

"Can I just be alone?" 

"Whatever." Seamus got up to leave, but stopped in his tracks while in the doorframe. "Hey! Who's dog?" _Dog? Then it clicked. He ran forth to the door, pushed Seamus out of the way and dragged the dog inside. He locked the door swiftly and turned to the black dog before him. _

"What on earth do you think you're doing? Is the prospect of innocence gone to your head?" Harry asked, still holding the dog by the scruff of its neck. He growled, trying to escape and Harry let go with a sheepish smile. Harry jumped backwards when he transformed, in the place of the great black dog was his godfather.

"Harry, I need to talk to you," Sirius said, glancing at the door, which was nearly knocked off it's hinges from Seamus knocking. 

"Right _now?" _Harry asked, incredulously. 

"Yes, I'm leaving tomorrow, so…" Sirius raised an eyebrow. 

"You know, you're really pushing it this time. Seamus is probably pressed up against the door!" 

"Oh, well, let him hear." Sirius sad in a proud voice. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"What in the name of Merlin do you so desperately have to talk about now?" Harry asked, exasperated. Sirius paused. He really had no explanation in which he could tell Harry. He decided to come from a different direction. 

"About your persistent negligence towards your father. He wants to talk to you, you know? He wants to know you, and it's tearing him up inside when you show no interest in knowing _him._" Sirius said, sitting down on Ron's bed. Harry sat down on his own. 

"It's just so messed up! I've wanted this, but now I have no idea what to do with it." Harry said.

"Wanted what?" Sirius asked. He hadn't quite understood to what Harry was referring to. 

"Family," Harry answered quietly. Sirius' heart broke in two but he remained silent. 

"You've always had family, Harry." Sirius whispered.

"Don't talk about them-" 

"_Not them. _Me, Remus, the Weasleys, Hermione." Sirius said. 

"It's not the same without parents. It's not the same that I had to grow up alone." Harry said angrily.

"I know," Sirius started. "But you don't have to be alone anymore. I'm here, kid. So is James." 

Harry nodded as he fought against the aching in his throat and the burning sting in his eyes. He swallowed it down and blinked the tears away. _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry. _

_"I'll see you soon. Bye, Harry." Sirius whispered turning and jumping into his animagus form. Harry opened the door to let him out, getting one last lick on the back of the hand before the great black dog bounded down the stairs and through the portrait hole. Harry sighed as he flopped down on his bed. He took out his journal, quill and bottle of ink. _

_Dear Journal,_

_Sirius says he cares, but he's never there when I really need him. I'm a stranger to my blood family and maybe to myself. I think they all think they have me figured out. But as I've said before, Northern stars aren't for southern eyes._

_-Harry [18.10.94]_

I'm not very happy about that chapter, but I know you all wanted a new one really bad. I'm thinking about a new story based on the saying Northern Stars Aren't for Southern Eyes. It'll be after book five. Tell me what you think.

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**__**


	16. Mr Amsterdam

**Please note that all facts about Vlad Dracul and Vlad Dracula are completely true. Bar the vampire part. I was bored so I researched.**

**I'm debating the idea of changing the names of the chapters. I want to go freestyle with them, though I'm not sure if it will take away from the story. Feedback. **

**_Starseed_**

_blackenedsoul_

_            Dear Journal,_

_The anger, confusion and angst invested in me is slowly choking me. I would walk a mile out of my way to avoid myself, but I'm stuck to this soul like white on rice and it hurts._

_The other day, along with the falling leaves, I was brought to a new stage of madness. I felt myself become Voldemort. I felt the redness of my eyes and the sharpness of my nails. I wasn't asleep, but I was only half awake. Half aware of what was happening. My body wasn't changing, but I felt it. When I looked down I only saw my own hands, young but calloused. I spoke the words I dare not speak to those who are light of heart. I spoke murderous, dirty, tainted words as the tumbled out of my mouth. _

_'"The guilt resides in you, Potter. The one I have marked; the one I have fallen to. The blood runs on your hands, though the fault is my own. We are the bitter, the sour and the tainted. We are the poor of blood, but the powerful. You, yet, are not aware of the power that resides in you. You know of your true heritage, your true destiny, but are unaware of your fate. You will fall before me. Your blood will soak the ground I so proudly walk on. Your body and the bodies of the brave, the patriotic and the noble will rot of the remains of your once perfect world. You will perish with the coming of the spring. Confessions of the heart are useless for the many condemned. Even before the snow touches the ground you will find yourself underneath the many sorrows, in a place where the sun will not shine on your marked face, where the clouds are a memory of a distant precedent. I will wait for you there Potter, you alone are equal to me in body and soul and possess the key to my ruling. I will not fall again.'"_

_I choked after, I felt my messy hair, and my eyes soften to green. I lay awake for hours that night thinking: "I'm turning into Voldemort. I'm turning into…oh my god." _

_It was a good thing that Ron and the other boys were out. Ron I suspect in detention with Snape. Neville would, as usual, be there too. Seamus would be trying out his new broom and Dean would be watching with envy. I hadn't spoken to Ron when he came back in, smelling of lemon cleaning solution. I rolled over and pretended to be sleeping. My life in a nutshell._

_-Harry [23.10.94]_

            History of Magic, however violent and controversial, would always set the mood for sleep when being taught my Professor Bins. Interacting with the class was kept to a bare minimum, and it was mostly a lecture throughout. 

"…and that brings us to today's topic. Who can tell me who Vlad Dracul's son was?" Bins asked, looking out to the mass of dozing students. One hand stood alone.

"Miss Granger?" 

"Vlad Dracul's son was Dracula." Hermione said. 

"And what was he famous for?" 

"Vlad Dracula was the prince of Walachia in Romania. He was famous for impaling his victims and dining beside them, raising his glass to each one. He's better known as _Vlad the Impaler. He fought to keep his country independent from Hungary. His family ruled Walachia under the suzerainty of the Ottoman Empire." Hermione said. "It was later revealed that he was a vampire. Very little people believed it, thinking the book __Dracula was only fiction." _

"Well done," Bins said with a translucent smile. "Class dismissed." 

Harry nearly fell out of his chair and onto the dusty floorboards when the bell rang. He had to shake Ron rather roughly by the shoulders. 

"What's next?" Ron asked. He hadn't yet opened his eyes, but Harry guessed that he had been rubbing his eyes often, judging by the trail of eyelashes from his under eyes to his cheek bones. 

"We're done," Hermione said, wiping a spot of dust from his robes. "Lupin cancelled his class for today; full moon tonight." 

"I thought Snape filled in for him. Did Dumbledore change his mind?" Ron asked. They crossed by the great hall, and Harry's eyes were quickly averted to the sight of Chan. Her hair was tied back and falling out. She had a smudge of dirt of her tie. She was sitting alone, cross-legged and against the wall. She looked up at Harry and noticed his staring. She fixed a glare and turned opposite. 

"_Harry? Harry, you wanker." Ron said._

"I was listening," Harry replied. Ron scoffed, but didn't say any more. 

Harry felt a jerk inside himself. It was all too familiar. He gripped the stone wall, grabbing a pillar around the middle. His eyes were turning red, he could feel it. His hands felt long and spindly. They were his own visibly, but the feeling of them stretching and thinning was enough to make him scream. He bolted off, leaving a confused Ron and Hermione, who ran after. Harry huffed as his legs pumped on the ground. He had to get to Dumbledore. Dumbledore would know what to do. He would help. 

He reached the entrance. Ron and Hermione's yells were distant and demanding. He pushed his palms into his ears. 

"Harry?" 

_Stop!_

_"Harry?" _

"STOP!" Harry yelled. The face of his headmaster was worried, but collected all the same.

The headmaster's face twisted, burned. The eyes, red, raw. He fought against the claws ripping at his arms, tearing away at the flesh on his bony, alien arms. He was pulled, pulled under and into the darkness. He heard a door slam and everything clicked on. The headmaster's face was peering down at him, clinging onto his arms. 

"Professor…help…" Harry panted as he felt himself pulled back under. Thousands of hands were holding him down, pulled him back further into the back of himself. He heard a scream, so distant…so crystalline in an echo that it sounded like a note that was sung. He tried to breathe but the lungs were not of his power anymore. He heard ragged breathing, though he couldn't comprehend to whom it belonged. A distant voice, an echoing, monotone voice. Baritone in tune but hypnotizing. It screeched and gasped as it spoke, the words falling from an unknown force. 

_-Residing in him is the iniquity, Dumbledore. You've known that with the stirring of the truth I would come. Veracity is perceived differently to those who have seen the darkness. He's so far away now. Not even the screams of the reaching and hopeless could rip him from what he's become. He's screaming now. He's nearing the bottom. He's falling…so far down… so far away... The soldier is no more. So alike we are, and so close we fall. I need not a hand this time. Wake up to the dawn, wake up to the shadows of death that loom before you and cling to you. So reckless, you are. I've seen the dawn. I have seen the blood of so many. I have seen the boy, falling…-_

"Tom," Dumbledore stated. 

_-Indeed, Dumbledore.- _

"Why must you show yourself in Harry? I never thought of you as a coward, Tom." 

_-Spinelessness is not present in this matter.-_

"Free him." Dumbledore urged.

_-Never. He has fallen…-_

Dumbledore's eyes burned with a hatred never formerly shown. The air of his face and the burning in his eyes had the effect of a hand reaching out and choking. 

"Dumbledore? Are you in there? I need to speak with you." A voice called from beyond the door. Dumbledore turned hastily.

_-The Werewolf. Open the door.-_

Dumbledore hesitated, but opened the door.

"Harry? I wasn't expecting you here." Remus said, looking to the boy, who was now slouched lazily on the floor, back to the wall. 

"Remus-" Dumbledore started but was cut off by a high wicked laugh. It resembled a scream, but the look of amusement on the boys face told them otherwise.

_-The werewolf. Pleasure seeing you on an unexpected occurrence such as this.-_

"Harry? What?" Remus had never known Harry to sound so bitter. So cold. He had never called him _werewolf._

_-'Look at what my son has become. A monster…'-_

"Stop it! Harry, how could you-?" Remus was baffled. Harry knew nothing of his past…he couldn't, and yet he was pulling that out of his head. Things he wished would break apart.

_-'Stupid boy, not my son.'-_

"Stop!"

_-'Out of my house! Rot and die on the street! You filth!'-_

"STOP!" Remus screamed shaking the boy roughly by the shoulders. His head rolled back and forth but he was laughing. 

"_Remus. _That's not Harry." Dumbledore said, pulling the teacher away. 

"What's wrong with you? How could you know?" Remus said, still yelling at Harry. 

"REMUS!" Dumbledore yelled grabbing him by the shoulders. "That's not Harry." 

"What?" 

"Harry had been possessed. I thought it impossible. I thought he wasn't strong enough, but he was." Dumbledore said regretfully.

"Where's Harry?" Remus asked frantically, looking down at the boy. He was smirking up at him.

"Somewhere in the back of his mind. He will emerge soon. Contrary to what Tom believes, he cannot reside in Harry for that long. He is weak already." 

"You-Know-Who is in Harry?" Remus asked. He looked down again and noticed the boy was looking away. He was busy looking at his wrists and chuckling to himself. Remus couldn't understand that if Voldemort was in Harry, why wasn't he killing every student and teacher in sight?

_-Foolish boy.- _Harry growled, still examining his wrists.

"Why hasn't he attacked?" Remus asked. 

"He is too weak." Dumbledore said. "He cannot move from the floor." 

_-As you will soon see, I can. I'll get you Dumbledore.-_

Remus and Dumbledore chose to block Harry out. He was soon screaming and growling angrily, trying to claw his way toward them. 

"How long will he stay like…_that?" Remus asked, not turning around despite Harry spiting on his shoe. _

"Not long. His energy is dying. Already you can see him fighting. Harry's fighting for power in his mind, though I don't know how long it will take for Harry's soul to become enslaved. Over time, he will not be able to emerge." Dumbledore said gravely. 

"What? So he'll be taken over by Voldemort? What's happening to Voldemort's body?" Remus asked. 

"He is in a near death state. Harry is keeping him alive. He must have had one of his servants nearly kill him. With an ancient spell, his soul was released, and devoured by Harry's body unwillingly." 

"Oh god." 

_-James never cared for you. It was always Black. Even now, his son chooses him over you.-_

"Shut up." Remus growled. 

_-When James rose, I found him. Hunted him down. You can keep nothing from __Me.__- Harry said in his besmirched voice. Forever tainted by the words of the dark. The sordid flippant speech so blithely spoken was enough to consume you in hatred._

"Harry, fight it." Dumbledore said, kneeling in front of Harry. The boy lurched forward, trying to bite the headmaster with all the power he could muster. "Break through." Harry spat in his face. 

"Come on, Harry." Remus chorused. Harry managed enough strength to kick him in the shin, though not too hard. 

_-You cannot break me boy!-_

_-Get out of my head!-_

_-You're too far down!-_

_-STOP IT!-_

Harry's head was lolling from side to side. He was screaming at himself, clawing at his own skin. He let out a howl of pain and screamed loudly. 

_-Why can't I wake up?!-_

_-I control you now!-_

_-You can't take me!-_

_-You're at the bottom, Potter!-_

_-I won't fall before you!-_

Harry was making gurgling noises and was gasping. He sounded like he was drowning in himself. He was shaking and clawing. He choked painfully. His legs were kicking and his hands were reaching for something to cling onto. 

"He's too far away…" Dumbledore said. 

Harry's face scrunched up with effort. His race for breath was becoming desperate. Two parties inside himself fought for power, while the need for air grew more. 

"Fight Harry!" Remus yelled, not ready to give up. 

Harry was silently screaming inside of himself. He was being pulled under. He would never go back. Shadows of figures with claws and horns ripped at him. The pain was building up but he resisted. An evil, mocking laugh erupted and he screamed again. He was sinking, one steady motion. He felt light as breath left him. He closed his eyes. And clawed back, despite the liberated feeling. Clawing at invisible hands that pulled him down into the deepest trenches of himself. The past he ultimately could not escape, despite the pleading. He fought with the claws. He saw red. Those eyes… sneering at him. Harry felt himself being pushed backwards, but he grabbed onto the forearms of his attacker. An echo of a scream… soft pleading…it all seemed so far away. Harry broke free and ran for the light. Hands grabbed his leg and he tripped. He clawed the ground pulling himself slowly forward. The claws ripped the skin of his ankles but he kept reaching…the light was bigger…approaching. He looked back once. Laughing shadows. He was lingering between the darkness and the light. The light was coming closer, but the dark was pulled him back. The rampant chaos… He lunged forward. 

Harry was kicking, breathing again. He screamed. 

"What's happening?" Remus asked. 

"He's fighting." Dumbledore said in disbelief. Harry screamed again and collapsed to his side.  Remus reached a hand out. 

"Don't touch him! We don't know who made it through." Dumbledore warned. Harry coughed. Remus looked to Dumbledore and then back at Harry. Harry sat up and slammed a fist to the floor and choked on another cough. 

"Harry?" Remus whispered. 

Harry looked up. There were tears in his eyes, though they didn't spill over. 

"What's happening to me?" He asked through a sob that betrayed him. Remus immediately hugged him hard. 

"I fear Voldemort found a way to possess you, Harry." Dumbledore said. "I will talk to Severus. While we cannot completely control this, we can ward it off for little spaces of time, in order for you to build your strength." 

"He's going to come back!" Harry yelled frantically, trying to get up. 

"He cannot come back for a while Harry. From what I saw, you put up quite a fight, back there." Dumbledore said with a smile. "It will take days for him to build enough strength to come back." 

"He can control me!" 

"Only when he is completely overpowering you, like we just witnessed." 

"I didn't…hurt you did I?" Harry asked nervously. 

"You gave me a good kick to the shin, but that's about it." Remus said, rubbing his leg. 

"What am I going to tell my friends?" Harry asked miserably.

"The truth. I think you had better go for dinner, Harry. I need to make some announcements myself." Dumbledore said. Remus helped Harry to stand, but he fell right back down. 

"Maybe you should go to the infirmary, Harry. Remus, would you walk him there?" Dumbledore asked, opening the door for the two.

"Certainly." Remus said, balancing out the weight of Harry. Once out of Dumbledore's office, Harry looked down guiltily. 

"I'm sorry I kicked you." Harry said. He still had no idea of some of the things he said. The magnitude of it would scare him if he found out. Remus forced a smile at him. He was terribly frightened when Harry, or rather, Voldemort had said all those things. Only James and Sirius had known about his past. How his father kicked him out of the house when he was a small boy. He would have no werewolves in the house. His mother didn't care. He had almost forgotten…

"It doesn't matter, Harry. You needn't apologize. It wasn't you in there." Remus said, rounding a corner, still keeping a steady hand on Harry's shoulder. 

"What exactly did he say to you? Sometimes I could hear before, but not this time…" Harry explained. 

"It's not important. Wait! When did this happen to you before?" Remus asked, as they started treading down the long corridor to the infirmary. 

"A few days ago. I can still remember what he said; I wrote it down. It was only for a second. I think he just wanted me to know he was there." He said. They entered the hospital wing to find it full. The matron turned from a student and quickly walked to them. 

"Remus good to-!"

"What happened here?" Remus asked her.

"Accident in Potions. Every single fourth year Gryffindor was sprouting boils." She said with a shake of the head. "Nasty business, Potions. I get the worst sort of things come out of there." It seemed as though she just realized Harry was there. 

"Professor Dumbledore sent Harry here down. Dreamless sleep. Mind you, He's a bit shaky." Remus said, sitting Harry down on a bed closest. 

"Right, I'll fetch it for you." Pomfrey said, bustling off, pointing her finger at one third year boy and yelling "Don't pick at it!" as she went.

"You'll be alright now, Harry?" Remus said, turning himself around, though his face was still pointing to Harry. 

"Yes, thank you." Harry said and watched Remus leave with a wave. He turned back to the rather unfortunate students on his right. 

"Harry!" Harry whipped around to his left. A flash of freckles and ginger hair caught him by surprise. 

"Hey, Ginny." He said, looking down very disgusted, at her boils on her right arm, though trying to hide it. 

"Pretty gross, eh?" Ginny asked, "Most of them are far worse off than me. Colin's got it all over his face. Painful. He doesn't sit down, so I suspect he's got them on his bum." Harry laughed through his nose in spite of the mental picture. 

"What're you here for?" Ginny asked. "There was a puddle of the stuff outside the potions room. You didn't step in it did you-?" 

"No, Ginny. I um…er…" He could think of nothing. 

"Oh well. I don't care if it's embarrassing. Nothing can really compare to boils on your bum though. Colin could sympathize with you." 

"It's nothing like that." A thought popped into Harry's mind. _She'd_ been possessed too. She'd understand! Would she? Would she not want to talk about it? "Ginny…when you-?" 

"Here's your dreamless sleep potion Mr. Potter." The matron said, handing him a vial. He fell back onto the bed and scoffed. Just her timing. He took it and held it for a minute, wondering whether he should as Ginny before he fell asleep.

"Now!" Pomfrey roared. Harry fell back against the pillows. He'd have time to talk with her later…

Harry opened his eyes and welcomed the haziness of white. He reached for his glasses beside him and found the cold metal shocking his tentatively paralyzed skin. He looked to his left and saw white curtains dancing in the wind through an open window. He shivered slightly and sat up. His throat felt rather raw, and he soon found that clearing it made it worse. He found only Colin and an unknown fourth year on either side of him, and from what he could see, it was just the three of them. 

"Mr. Potter? Ah, yes, I see you're awake. Rather early. It's only six-thirty, you know." The matron said, popping around the corner. It seemed to Harry that she hid there until one of the occupants would move. 

"I should," Harry coughed rather painfully. "Get to breakfast."

"Oh dear me, you sound like the devil himself! Open up." She ordered. Harry, rather reluctantly, opened his mouth and Pomfrey began her thorough inspection. Harry guessed, if she could, Pomfrey would climb inside his mouth for a closer look.

"Dreadful dear; raw as meat." The nurse tutted, pushing him back onto the bed. 

"But I have to-!" 

"Get some rest, that's what you have to do." The matron replied. "If it gets worse I'll have to get a potion, but I think you're OK for now." 

"Which is exactly why I am going back to-!"

"Sleep!" 

"But you said yourself-!" 

"I don't care what I said. _Sleep." Pomfrey said, eyes bulging out of her head out of irritation. Harry sighed. _

"_Fine." _Harry said, leaning back down. It was going to be a long day…

Remus Lupin scoured his desk drawers. Papers littered the floor, creating an origami winter. He huffed and kicked his chair back, falling to his knees to search the ground. Nothing. He tried the left side drawers. 

First.

Nothing.

Second. 

Nothing. 

Third.

Nothing. 

He growled and swung his chair back. He hunched down and rested his elbows on the desk. Damn that infernal lesson plan. Fifth year D.A.D.A. wouldn't be too hard to make up. 

The usual clamor of students filled Remus' ears. He blinked and sat down, waiting for the rush of teenagers. Remus had always thought that the apparent 'best years of your life' were always the hardest. He remembered his teenager years fondly, regardless of the tough times. He cursed hormones constantly. Now, and when puberty had hit him. One girl was the end of the world, one fight with his friends was the end of his happiness; or so it seemed then. Times had changed. He realized with a smile that he would never be 'cool'. Despite teenagers' thoughts on the perfect adult (calm, out of the way) he realized no adult could be cool for over five minutes. 

"Professor?" 

Remus looked up summarily into the freckly face of Ron Weasley. 

"Ron? Oh, sorry. Can I help you?" Remus asked, rubbing his eyes hazily. Class hadn't yet started, though at least six students were sitting on desks waiting. 

"Well…Harry didn't show up to bed last night. I was wondering if you or Sirius-?"

"Oh…I'm afraid that was my doing," he said. "Was he at breakfast?" 

"No, I haven't seen him since yesterday night." Ron said. 

"I'll go check it out." Remus said, standing up and straightening his robes. He scanned the classroom. "Hermione? Could you watch the class for a moment?" Her face flushed with excitement and she bounced up to the front of the class, her eyes spanning the chalkboard horizon. 

"Poppy, have you seen Harry since last night?" Remus said, holding her by the shoulders. She shrugged him off and pulled a curtain. Harry laid asleep, face into the pillow. 

"He had a touch of a raw throat. I thought it best if he just slept. I should have informed you, I apologize." She said. "It will become tonsillitis or the flu if he doesn't rest now." 

"Thank you, Poppy." Remus said turning and running back to his class. He hated to think what could have happened under only Hermione's supervision. 

_"I'm stronger than they could have ever suspected. They first tenet in warfare, Potter, is to never underestimate your adversaries. I'm sure you won't. Underestimating your equals and those who fall below you is foolish. A thorn on a rose can be hidden well. I learned that the hard way. I have complete power over you now. I can make you kill them, Potter. The mudbloods and the ones you call family. You have no family, Potter. I took care of that. You'll kill them. Rip out their throats and breaks their backs upon your knees. Make them suffer, just like you have. Kill them… kill them…_

"Kill them…" Harry whispered as his eyes fluttered open. 

Well, there's a bit of action there. Sorry it took me a while to write this for you. It's only eight pages. 

**-Darcy-**

Heh. Well, not much else to say…thank you.

**-Evanescence-**

I think this chapter sounds good with _Going Under, but that's just my personal opinion. I just bought their CD! Thanks. _

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I want to hug you so bad. Thank you so much. Reviewing all fifteen chapters for me? Aw.

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You reviewed twice, right? I apologize if not. Thanks.

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Yeah, well I'm _Too-Lazy-To-Write-A-Review-Response. _Heh. Just kidding. Thank you. 

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To tell you the truth, it really doesn't tell me anything. 

**-Cataclysmic-**

Thanks. (I'm just getting lazy with the responses now…)

**-Anon.-**

Thanks for leaving such a large gap in my review box. 

**-jes9-**

Yeah. He will confront him later though.

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Not telling. Nanner nanner nanner! 

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**-Leigh-**

Yeah, I know. It makes much more sense than the other James-miraculously-come-back-to-life stories. Thanks.

**-Harry's Muggle Sister-**

You'll have to wait and see if Harry accepts James in the future. Heh, I get to withhold information! Thanks. 

**-coolone007-**

Um…ok…thanks.

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You'll just have to wait and see!

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Yes! Someone who shares my love for John Lennon! Thanks. 

**-Kim13-**

I thought so too. I hope this one isn't! Thanks.

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I sped up the plot a little in this chapter, but the possession thing isn't the _main _thing… thanks. 

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Aha… another one… Also, too lazy to use correct grammar. Heh. That's me to a tea. 

**-Crystal, James, Lily and Sirius.-**

Ok…that's what I was thinking of doing. SSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!

**-Kateydidnt-**

When I get to discussing his rape and stuff, I would have had to make it R. I was getting worried they'd rip it off the net. 

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**Please review!!!!!!**


	17. Break Your Frame

The halls of the third floor were bare, owing to the time of day. Second period had started just ten minutes ago and the doors were closed tightly. A dark shadow lingered in the shadows. A green shiner was evident in the darkness. If one looked closely, they could see the shape of a metal blade; a knife, held tightly in his right hand.

_-Wait for footfalls...-_

_-I will master.-_

Minutes passed, when finally, a tapping and slight squeaking of polished shoes echoed through the hallway.

"Harry?" The man called. He was running, calling a name. Curving his hands around his mouth so his voice would travel.

_-I know that name…-_

_-No you don't! Don't fool yourself.-_

"Harry?" The man called again. He was near. 

_-I know that face.-_

_-It's all in your mind!-_

The voice had spoke so loud it was spoken through his mouth. The man turned slowly. He was looking into the shadows desperately. As the face came closer, and his features became clearer, thoughts flooded his head until he was swimming in it. 

_-Professor Lupin! Help me! - _Harry cried. He could sense the black, clawed hands reaching up. 

"Harry? Oh god, we've been looking everywhere for you. Poppy came in and you weren't there-"

_-No! You don't understand! He's trying to get me! Please help me!- _Harry begged. 

"What? Oh, no…Dumbledore? Yes. We'll go to Dumbledore." 

_-He'll get me before then! Stun me or something!- _

"Harry…" Remus paused, but Harry was starting to look white. "_Stupefy!"_

Harry slumped off to the side, and Remus picked him up gingerly. He jumped when something metal fell to the floor. A knife. Remus swallowed and took off for Dumbledore's office. If anyone had been in the halls, they would have thought it weird to see a teenage boy being carried. 

When Remus arrived outside Dumbledore's office, with Harry still in his arms, he whispered "Dead Fish Mints" to the gargoyle, and entered as it moved aside. 

"Albus!" Remus yelled. "Albus!"

"Remus? I daresay this must be urgent-" Dumbledore stopped as he noticed Harry, who was lying in Remus' arms, his eyes tightly closed. "It happened again? So soon?"

"It seems he was stronger than we expected. Harry was just starting to slip when I found him. He begged me to stun him." Remus explained, setting Harry gently down in a chair. 

"I see…" Dumbledore started. "Severus has brewed the Mind Paralyzing potion. It will render Voldemort powerless, but Harry won't be able to do much either. A common side effect. We cannot just freeze one side of the brain without permanently damaging the other half." Dumbledore said sadly.

"How weak will Harry's mind be?" Remus asked.

"It varies from the powerfulness of Voldemort. When he is trying to overcome Harry, and is feeling murderous, Harry will almost have to be knocked out. He won't be able to speak clearly, and won't be able to move at all. Other times, he will just feel slightly sluggish." Dumbledore said. "Severus is working to lighten the symptoms, though it may take several weeks." 

"Alright…" Remus said reluctantly. 

"I need a favor." Dumbledore said, nonchalantly, glancing at Harry, sitting unconscious in the chair. His head was drooped to one side and his hair was falling over his face. 

"Anything," Remus replied.

"I need you to burn all letters that Harry might have from, or to Sirius. I need you to check his dorm, and also his bedroom." Dumbledore said. "We don't want the court to find something to use against us."

"Won't that help our situation?" Remus asked. 

"We must prepare for anything. It's probably better if they're not there at all." Dumbledore said. 

Harry was given his potion, and carried back to his dorm room. Classes were in, it being just after lunch. Harry slept through the day, drifting in and out, but not opening his eyes. He didn't know where he was, just that the voice wasn't bothering him anymore. 

"Are you sure we should be looking through his stuff?" James asked, once Remus had burned all the letters kept at Hogwarts, and then moved to the ones at home. Remus had immediately opened drawers and looked under his bed, but James seemed a bit reluctant to help.

"It's fine. Harry would rather us go through his stuff than have Sirius kissed. I'm sure of it." Remus answered, a bit muffled since his head was under Harry's bed. "Go ahead, look."

"But…he hates me now. It would just make things worse." James said. He couldn't describe the feeling of feeling distant from his son. 

Remus sighed, accidentally hitting his head on the box spring of Harry's bed. "He doesn't hate you…he's just confused. He's always had a lot of trouble trusting people.  He'll warm up to you sooner or later. You just have to find something that you're both interested in." Remus suggested. "I'm sure there's something." 

"How would _I _know what he likes?" James asked incredulously. 

"Well…look!" Remus said with a laugh. "It's all right here!" 

"But…" James sighed. "Alright…but if he finds out…You were in here by yourself." 

"Fine." 

They had only found around five letters, but Remus knew there were more. He was convinced he kept them in a box, or an envelope somewhere. 

"I found this in his dorm." Remus said, lifting a leather bound book from his pocket; Harry's journal.

"OK…that's where I draw the line." James said, and tried to snatch it out of Remus' hands. The werewolf held it up and stepped back from James. 

"James…this could tell us whether or not he…hurts himself or not." Remus said turning over the front cover. There was a list of threats to anyone who read the book. 

"I don't want to find out that way." James said harshly. He managed to grab a corner of the book and try to break Remus's grasp on the book. Remus frowned and yanked back. James kept his tight grip. 

"Let go, Remus." 

"You." Remus hissed, pulling so hard he was squatting with the effort. James smirked and let go of the book. Remus went flying backwards, and so did the journal. Remus landed on his back, nearly somersaulting. The journal opened in mid air, leaving rogue papers flying everywhere in its path. It landed beside Remus. When he recovered, he reached for it and tucked it under his arm before James could react. 

"Remus, seriously mate, don't open it." 

"I won't." Remus smirked. "But I can't speak for the papers that are on the floor." 

"You wouldn't." James narrowed his eyes. 

"I would." Remus said, grabbing a paper from the floor. It was covered with doodles, but one long line of words stuck out to Remus's eyes. James closed his eyes. Harry was going to find out and hate him. Hate him even more. What did he do wrong?

_Help me…help me_

_I'm falling to my knees_

_Help me…help me_

_It's pulling me down._

_Can you hear me screaming?_

_Can you hear me?_

_It feels like falling_

_Oh, so far down_

_It feels like falling_

_It's got me so far down._

_Help me…help me_

_It's got me so far down._

_Help me…help me_

_Can you hear me?_

_I'm so far down…_

Remus stood in shock and was, five minutes later, still staring at the paper. He had reread it over and over, and scanned over the doodles and scribbles. He had been expecting an entry to his journal, a letter, or a newspaper clipping, but not poetry. He glanced up at James, who was looking at him with a frightened expression. The stunned silence was none too reassuring. 

"What? _What?_"

"It seems I have found that common interest with your son." Remus said with a smile. He glanced at the other papers that were scattered on the off beige colour. They all had words written from corner to corner. That angst filled, screaming, hair ripping poetry that he had seen so many years ago. 

"No way." James said, snatching the paper in spite of what he had said earlier. 

"Yes, way," Remus answered with a smile. "See? He's not so completely alien to the Potter name as we originally thought." Remus said with a laugh.

"Music and poetry could be the key to knowing your son, James. It _was how you snagged Lily after all." Remus winked. "Remember that song you sang for her for her seventeenth birthday? I must admit, that came straight from the heart, mate." _

"I just can't believe…" James trailed off. "Did you tell him that I used to write?" 

"Nope," Remus said a little proudly. "He found it by himself." 

James laughed in disbelief and started collecting the papers and stuffing them back into the Journal. His son was his son. _His. _He was still his baby boy, the one he had held in his arms so many times. From the first moment Lily told him he was going to be a dad, he knew he was going to have a boy. Lily knew too. Mother's intuition. Lily… he could still hear her laughing, crying and the silent sound of her sleeping…the feel of her skin against his and the way he missed her so much it hurt too much sometimes. It hurt to know that his little boy grew up to never know such a wonderful person as his mother. He hoped that she was still watching him, and she could see just how much she was missed. He hoped whenever she watched him, she could still hear that song he sang for her, the song which, in an instant became known once he knew he loved her. 

_Red hair and that way you smile_

_Thought I'd know you just a little while_

_Watched you back as you walked right by_

_I think you caught me but I'm not that shy_

_I'm no use but I love you Lily_

_I'm no use but I love you Lily_

_Dirt on your shoes but you just don't care_

_Said I'd meet you but I don't know where_

_I saw you dancing out in the rain_

_Took my hand but I won't complain_

_I'm no use but I love you Lily_

_I'm not use but I love you Lily_

_I love you, Lily…_

It still echoed in his head, years after. He had been so afraid. He took her out to the Quidditch pitch that night, acoustic guitar at his side, and played it, just like he had been practicing for weeks. He tried not to look at his feet, but most of the time he didn't think he could look her in the eye. When he was done, and his fingers left the final string, he put his guitar down by his side and looked at her. She was breathing fast and he didn't know what to do. She did. She kissed him and he didn't need to be nervous anymore. It was Lily. And that day, she became his Lily.

"Oh, come on Fudge, it's nearly six o'clock and I don't get supper?" Sirius asked in an innocent tone. Fudge glared menacingly. 

"If it weren't for Dumbledore you'd be in Azkaban faster than you can say Dementor, Black." Fudge said.

"Minister of Magic and still has to be a good boy and listen to his superiors." Sirius mocked. A metal goblet was thrown at the bars of Sirius's holding cell. He was startled, but he recovered quickly. Fudge's face was against the bars so fast; Sirius didn't have time to react. 

"I don't need a lesson of superiority from a murdering mutt. Why so quick to join Dumbledore's rebellion? While you're here, I control you, Black. It would be wise to hold your tongue. I have things in store for you yet. Dumbledore, the werewolf, Potter senior and Potter junior."

"_…And your little dog, too." Sirius mocked in a scratchy, classical witch voice. Fudge glared ignorantly, but stalked away, he turned back once._

"I might set the Dementors on you yet, Black." Fudge said, leaving Sirius alone with the bulky guard. He set back to word at trying to mentally blow a wall out.

Harry was still in bed by the time Ron came back from his day of classes. He was sleeping soundly, his head nearly buried under the pillow, when Ron shook him, not too roughly by one shoulder. Harry groaned and swatted the offending hand away.

"Harry?" Ron asked. "Mate, why'd you miss classes?" 

"M'Pomfrey said I was sick." Harry said. "I'ink she was right." Harry added, his voice muffled by his pillow. 

"Hermione was worried about you, wanted me to see how you were." Ron said. 

"Tell 'er m'fine." Harry replied. He was just so tired. He doubted he could roll over. 

"Alright…" Ron said. His voice drifted away slowly, and the door closed, allowing Harry to slip black to sleep.

Ron appeared down in the common room a second later, and upon seeing Hermione's worried face he laughed. She appeared to be appalled. 

"Don't laugh at my concern! What's the matter with him?" Hermione asked, looking past Ron's shoulder and at the stairs to the dorms. 

"He's sick. Nothing bad!" Ron added.

"Was he OK though?" Hermione asked. 

"I think he was just tired. It's probably a cold or something. He hasn't been sick once I don't think since he came to Hogwarts, so it was bound to happen sometime. Better now than the Quidditch finals!" 

"Or OWLs, I can just imagine how horrible it would be. Would they let you make it up?" Hermione asked, as if she, herself was sick on the morning of testing. 

"I'm sure they would. We said we'd meet Hagrid after class, so we'd better go." Ron said. 

"Oh…alright." Hermione said, taking one last glance at the stairs.

Remus had been advised not to tell James until tonight in Dumbledore's office about Harry's condition. Dumbledore seemed to think that James was under a lot of stress, with Lily, Harry, and all things that surrounded Harry, that he would simply collapse under the pressure of everything. It was a very difficult decision. He had chosen that road with Harry, and it had its ups and downs, but the possibility of James demanding to know everything hung in the air. 

"Harry didn't show up for classes again? He's going to be lost in Transfiguration!" Hermione said. "From your marks, you'd think you'd have been off as long as well." 

"I'm running out of excuses," Ron admitted. "Lupin said that if my grandmother dies one more time, he wants to see the body." 

Harry had left early in the morning for Dumbledore's office, upon receiving a note from Lupin. He had been dreading it all night, assuming it was just another meeting with his father. His energy had not yet returned, and he felt very sluggish, often catching himself dragging his feet in tiredness. 

Upon reaching Dumbledore's office, he found Remus sitting in the chair to the right of the one he usually sat in, instead of Sirius. That would take a lot of getting used to. Dumbledore made a gesture for him to come in and sit down, which he did rather reluctantly. He sank a little too far into the plush chair, and he feared it wouldn't allow for a quick escape if need be. 

"Now, Harry, James, this isn't an ordinary meeting. I know both of you have secrets to tell, but I have my own. This may be a very confusing night for the both of you, but I need you to try and understand. You will have your say, but I want you to listen to me without interruption. The importance of this meeting is great and I need you to pay attention. Any questions shall wait to the end. Do you both understand the terms?" 

Both Harry and James nodded. 

"Very well, I shall start from the beginning…" 

Sorry about the shortness. 

Heh. Sorry it took so long, and sorry I haven't killed anyone yet. I changed the summary too, so you get what this story will be about in the long run. The plot is roughly based upon the book Born Blue, by Han Nolan, but in many ways it isn't. It's just mostly overcoming adversity to get to the music. I hope you will enjoy it, now that the plot is showing itself. 

Lily and Help me are mine. Copy and die. That's a promise, boys and girls. 


	18. From Autumn to Ashes

**_Author's notes:_**

**__**

_My life has been hectic with the starting of school. I've been juggling classes, homework, dance and my writing. Right now, writing is on the bottom of my things to do, but I will try to get one chapter in a month that's the best I can do right now. I'm sorry if you weren't pleased with the shortness of the last chapter, but there's only so much information I can give away at one time. I understand some of you might be mad that it takes me a while to put up a chapter, but don't lecture me about what I should do with my time. _

_Now that I have shown you my evil, mad and hairy side, I feel that there is nothing more to say. _

**_Strange world, Dead Girl._**

**_Starseed                                                                                                              From Autumn to Ashes_**

How many times he had been in this office, Harry didn't know. More than any other student, he'd wager. It seemed every year in which he spent at Hogwarts, he came to learn new and frightening information in this office. He didn't know if he could stand more. He didn't know what else there could be to tell. He could bet that it was of a greater magnitude than anything before this. The look in Dumbledore's eyes told him that. 

"Even as a baby, Harry I could see the power in you. Though at the time you still seemed like a normal child, carefree and innocent. James," Dumbledore motioned to the man beside him, "and Lily tried to deny your power, as did I for a short time. I knew you were destined for great things.

"It was only when Lily and James died that my worst fears were realized. Not only were you given the greatest responsibility, but you were forced to face it virtually alone. Maybe it was for the best, or maybe it was just something that had to be done. My decision to leave you with the Dursleys was to give you a piece of your heritage. Petunia Dursley was the closest thing to your mother I could give you. I thought that you would not forget if you had a piece of her, but it only proved not only to push you further away from your parents' but from love completely. You were beaten, neglected and forgotten. But I, Harry could never forget the child I left on a doorstep on that Hallowe'en night, the night you lost everything. 

"For ten years I knew nothing of your stability, nor your health, but I was convinced you would be fine. I found it quite funny; none of the wizarding world would know that Godric Gryffindor's heir was living in a quiet English suburb.

"The point of the conversation was for the both of you. Now that I have had my say, I wish to move on to James, and then Harry. Remus, if there's anything you would like to add after-?"

"No, Albus, nothing," Remus whispered. 

"Very well, James?" Dumbledore beckoned him to continue.

"Alright," James sighed. When he didn't speak for a few minutes Dumbledore spoke again.

"Just tell him how you feel, and what you want him to know, what he needs to know." 

"I'm trying." James said. "OK…I'm just looking for somewhere to start…"

"Harry, I know your mad at me, have _been _mad at me, but you must understand, I don't really know how to be a father to you. When I left you, you were a baby. All I had to do was hold you until you would fall asleep and everything would be alright. Now…all this _shit that's been going on, I just don't know, don't know how to handle it all. I can understand if you hate me, because you need a father, and you need a good one. You need someone who understands what you're going through, and I don't know if I can do that!_

"You must understand, Harry, I'm still barely an adult myself! I died in my early twenties, and I don't mature fast. When Lily had you, I had to grow up a bit because I had to be responsible for a family, but…I don't know if we even have a family anymore." James choked on words of Lily, clenching his teeth to be strong. 

"I-I…" Harry started, but faltered. "I don't hate you." 

"I think maybe I knew that, but I needed to hear it from you." James whispered hoarsely. 

"Your mother might have been pregnant when she died, we were hoping, but…" He trailed off and looked to Dumbledore for help.

"It had never been proved, and we thought it best to go unknown." Dumbledore said, in almost a monotone, which was uncharacteristic in his nature.

To Harry, this had all been coming so fast. He thought of fire, the constant changing and flickering. 

"Tell me everything Harry. I want to help." _Damn. Back to me._

"I…I've told you everything. All of you." _Liar, liar, liar. _

"Let us in, Harry." Dumbledore's voice said softly. __

"Please." Remus whispered, putting his hand on Harry shoulder. _Don't touch me._

"And it will accomplish…?" Harry snapped. _Take that._

"Peace of mind." James said softly.

"For me or you?" _and that._

"Don't be like that, Harry please." Remus begged. "All I want to do is help you. James and Dumbledore too. Please don't make it hard." 

"Did you think it was going to be easy?" Harry asked with a slight laugh from the nose, almost sarcastic. 

James sighed. 

"Just tell us everything. From as early as you can remember."

"We've tried this before." Harry stated. "I don't know if I can tell you everything. I don't know if I want to. That isn't going to stop you is it?" Harry asked.

"Just try." James coaxed. Harry took a breath.

"…Ok…"

"I remember being young and feeling cold. Older memories of mine just seem to be flashes or emotions. It was always cold, but I remember not feeling my fingers. The floor was hard and there was water around me…that's all I remember from then. Then I was older… didn't do my chores right nothing much back then but a punch to the side of the head or something." James bit back tears as his son said so nonchalantly; his nightmares.

"Uncle Vernon started acting…_weird…_ when I was about three. Sometimes he wouldn't hit me at all…and it sort of scared me because it had become normal. I didn't know what was wrong with him until…" Harry choked on a sob and buried his head in his hands. Remus was at his side in seconds, trying to hold up his head in his hands. Harry kept trying to continue, but his voice seemed to be cut off. It came out as a dry sob or cough. 

"When you're ready, Harry." Dumbledore whispered comfortingly. Harry nodded and sniffed slightly, holding onto Remus's arm tightly. 

"H-He told me to strip. I d-didn't know what was going on. I-I was on-only three. He raised his hand so I did it, and then he grabbed me. Oh god…I-I can't remember much after that. I remember hands…I remember screaming until my throat was so sore but I had to. I had to. I wanted to get away but I couldn't. The pain…oh god…it hurt so bad… I couldn't stop him! I was only three!" 

Harry collapsed in sobs and Remus immediately pulled him into a hug. He held him so tightly it hurt, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way right now. He gripped his professor just as tightly back and sat silently sobbing, his face not visible from Lupin's robes. Remus was whispering frantically to not really Harry, but to himself. 

"Oh god, Harry. Oh god. They'll never get you again. I've got you. Never again." Remus was crying too, clinging to Harry, wanting to make sure he was still here, and not in pieces on the floor. Not bleeding to death in a closet, not a toddler being raped on his bedroom floor. 

Harry was glad he couldn't see his father's reaction. _He'll think I'm disgusting. I am. I am! Why did this happen to me? I've had enough! I can't suffer anymore! Oh god. Oh God! Ohgodohgodohgod. _

Remus finally pulled away from Harry, once he had calmed down a bit. When Harry was partially able to see again, he was surprised not to see Dumbledore at his desk. But when Harry felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, he knew who it was. He saw his father out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't even looking at him. 

"Harry…we're going to get your uncle for what he did to you. I need a statement from you…Did he rape you?

"Yes, he did." Harry said, for once, his voice not cracking, as if he was confident in his answer. Lupin was still grasping his arm tightly, and Dumbledore's hand was still on his shoulder. 

"You may go for tonight, Harry. I wish to see you tomorrow night, same time." Harry nodded slightly, a lone tear still making its way down his cheek. 

Lupin didn't let go of his arm right away.

"You going to be OK tonight?" Remus asked quietly, not wanting Harry to leave his side, not wanting Harry to have to go up to his dormitory by himself to have to relive everything in his nightmares. He could ask Harry to spend the night on the couch of his teacher's chamber, though he felt it would be inappropriate for this time. He wanted to hold him again, to be the one to console him. Sirius was put away at the ministry, James currently looked as if he didn't _want to care, but he felt it. Remus was finally able to show Harry just how much he cared for him. Remus wasn't going to stop caring for Harry. He wanted him to remember who he was, and how many people are still here for him._

Harry tried to smile a little, but it seemed to only squeeze tears out of his eyes. He wanted to squeeze Remus's hand in reassurance that he would be OK for tonight, but, for one, he didn't know if that was the case. Talking in the vulnerable condition he was in now would only stretch everyone's assumptions of his weakness. _I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine._

"I-I'll be OK." Harry said in a whisper, before dropping Remus's hand and left the room. It seemed as if time had slowed down, and all sound had completely shut off. He could tell his shoes were thumping on the floor lightly as he walked, but he seemed deaf to it. 

Maybe first impressions aren't always correct, but his second and third impressions didn't rub well with James, and Harry knew. He came in between a tough time and an even tougher time. 

_I really need my blade…_

_Right now…if only I could walk faster… if only I brought it with me._

His pace picked up significantly, and was thinking so hard it seemed as if the atmosphere around him picked him up and he was floating on a sea of his own thoughts, to drowsy with worry and grief to claw to the surface, to stubborn a person to sink. He became aware he was now in his dormitory, by the smell of musty clothes, but had yet to fathom reality, while he continued to set sail on a sea of dreams, soon to be a sea of nightmares and horrors, and he would sink once more. 

He woke up with the sun that morning, for the leaves that had once protected the sun from view, had sailed to the ground, riding the wind to piles unraked, leaving the sun to burn it's light through his eyelids as he tried to sleep through the morning. He groaned and rolled over, hoping to staunch the light through his pillow. His alarm went off noisily, but silenced as Harry's fist rained down upon it in his tired madness. He dressed quickly, hardly noticing his black pants were even baggier than normal, and his black shirt, which used to fit snuggly, now hung just slightly. It was only now he realized it was Saturday. A Hogsmeade weekend.

He walked briskly from the room and looked about the common room, it was mostly filled with third, second and first years, who were not yet allowed to leave the school to go to Hogsmeade. Hermione was sitting on an armchair by the window, looking down upon the coloured trees and foliage from her birds-eye-view from the Gryffindor tower. 

Harry walked casually up behind her and put his hands on the arms on the chair. "Not reading on a Saturday morning?" He asked, speaking of her usual weekend rituals of relaxing with a book.

"No…not today. It's too beautiful outside. I was just waiting for you and Ron to wake up so we could go outside. I thought you and Ron might want to play Quidditch," she suggested, straightening her posture on the chair slightly to get comfortable. 

"Ron'll be down in a minute, he's still sleeping, but he's been up late this week and I thought he could use the rest." Harry said. 

Hermione sighed and got up. "We'll meet him outside then, I'll leave him a note."

"Um…"

"Come on!" Hermione urged, "Grab your cloak! I'll write the note."

"Um…"

Hermione had already begun scratching her quill on the parchment, so Harry sighed and gave up. He ran a hand through his hair and went to grab his cloak. 

_Ron,_

_Harry and I waited up for you, but I guess you were tired, or just lazy. We're down on the Quidditch pitch. Harry wants you to bring your broom when you wake up. See you then!_

_-Hermione_

When Harry appeared downstairs, clad in his cloak and scarf, broom in hand, he smiled to Hermione before walking side by side down to the Quidditch pitch. 

The sun was out but the sky was an eerie white colour, with no evidence of clouds. The dark oak trees juxtaposed against the morning sky ad the blood red leaves set the fall tableau to perfection.

"Aren't you going to start flying? You don't have to wait for Ron." Hermione said when Harry didn't board his broomstick.

"It'll be boring for you. Besides, I don't feel like flying alone for an hour or so until Ron wakes up." Harry said with a sigh. 

"Why? Are you scared of being in the sky by yourself?" Hermione laughed, which seized when Harry pushed her into a pile of leaves behind her. She screamed as she fell into the mess of coloured leaves. She dove for Harry's knee caps and pulled him down. She jumped up onto her feet before he could recuperate. She ran desperately from Harry and the pile of leaves, but she could feel his footstep on the ground, and him panting as he ran behind her. When he caught up, which wasn't too long, he grabbed her round the middle and swung her to the ground. She screamed again, and pounded her fists on his back while laughing. Harry tossed her lightly into the leaves once more, laughing when she pulled him down too and held him down. She straddled his waist and smirked at him. 

"Now…can I trust you to let you up?" she asked coyly.

"I don't know…can you?" 

Harry smiled inwardly. Despite the mess of last night, and his life leading up to this point, he was finally happy just acting his age. Being stupid and childish at fifteen was expected, and up until now he had never experienced what everyone else felt. He had had enough of the mass of tragedy and abuse and horror, but seeing Hermione's face made him feel like he belonged in this world, like he was normal despite what he had been through. She was his last hope of innocence and faith right now.

"I love the fall." Hermione smiled once she had finished laughing. She hadn't gotten off of Harry completely, but now sat on his knees, allowing him to sit up on his elbows. 

"Do you ever wonder if this might be the last fall you ever see?" Harry asked, running his fingers over the veins of the leaf under his hand.

"Someone once said "_There is no sadder sight than a young pessimist." _And I believe that's true. After all, everyone's got to have faith right?" 

"Who said that?" Harry asked.

"Mark Twain." 

"Ah." Harry smiled. "So you think I'm pessimistic?" 

"Well you just jump from a beautiful autumn day to death!" Hermione quipped. 

"I'm not _completely_ pessimistic." Harry stated confidently.

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah."

"OK, Mr. Optimistic, I'll name one word, and you say the first thing that comes to mind." Hermione challenged. 

"Alright." Harry said.

"OK…water."

"…Rain." 

"You thought about that one! You can't think!" Hermione exclaimed.

"OK, OK. Try another."

"Leaves." 

"Autumn." 

"Sun." 

"Sunburn."

"Screwts." 

"Pain."

"Hagrid." 

"Screwts."

"OK…not completely pessimistic…but you're in a danger zone." Hermione said once they had finished their game. 

"Oh well, I'll live. Hopefully." He added with a laugh. Hermione laughed as well, punching him in the arm.

"So…You never told me Sirius's trial date." Hermione said.

"The ministry's debating. Fudge wanted straight execution, but…new evidence has been found." Harry said uncomfortably. Could he tell her? 

"They found Pettigrew?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"No…" 

"Then what new evidence could there possibly be?" 

Harry gulped.

"…A statement from a victim." Harry said tautly.

"Harry…they're all dead…_you _of all people know that." Hermione said, looking at him quizzically.

Harry sat up all the way and Hermione moved off his legs. Her eyes never left him, as if she was demanding an answer silently.

"N-no."

"What?" Hermione asked incredulously. 

"M-my dad." Harry said finally. The weight lifted slightly.

"He's dead Harry." Hermione said nervously, glancing at him as if he would suddenly jump up and yell at her.

"He's not…" Harry jumped into the story of him and his father, being the heir of Gryffindor, him running away, not trusting his father. Hermione looked skeptical when he explained that the ministry had mistaken James Potter for Sirius Black, but looked more believing when he explained that he had been sought out and attacked by deatheaters, which would make anyone look their worst, no disregard to Sirius. 

"S-So…he's been alive all this time and you didn't tell me? …Ron?" She asked, holding his wrists. He felt extremely uncomfortable and hoped she couldn't feel his scars through his cloak. 

"I couldn't! Please don't let on you know anything! I'll tell Ron, I swear, but you have to keep it a secret. If you accidentally come across it, or Dumbledore tells you, act surprised." Harry said with a laugh as an afterthought, knowing Dumbledore would see through her.

"OK, OK I will." She said with a smile. "You don't think it's great that he's back? You don't want to know what he's like? What you're a part of?" 

"I don't know…I sort of…told him I didn't hate him yesterday." Harry said.

"That's the best of it?" 

"That's about it, yeah." Harry said. 

"You, Harry Potter, are pathetic." Harry put on a look of mock surprise, before feigning a faint, and ticking her to no end. She jumped up and scrambled off in the other direction, Harry right at her heels. 

Remus Lupin and James Potter watched the two from the window of James' private chamber. They smiled occasionally, when Harry would push her into the leaves, or when Harry would laugh, showing the youthfulness in his face. 

"He deserves to be like that all the time." Remus said finally, when Harry had scrambled off after Hermione, leaving them almost out of view. 

"I know it." James said. "That's the first time I've seen him smile." He smiled a bit as well. "After everything last night…it's amazing he can smile."

"Makes you feel warm when he smiles, huh?" Remus pondered. 

"Hmm." James said, watching his son in the distance, with a girl he hardly knew. They were awfully close. He knew that face.

"Who is that girl?" He asked finally, trying to pick her face out of his mind. 

"Hermione Granger. She's Muggle-born. A fifth year Gryffindor too." Remus answered.

"Ah, yes. She's in Harry's photo album." James said. "Is she his girlfriend?" 

"I think they're just friends." Remus said, gazing at the tow kids out the window as well. 

"Awfully close…" James pointed out. James point was only further proved when Harry fell into the pile of leaves right beside her.

"Oh, grow up." Remus exaggerated. "Can't a boy and a girl be friends without dating?" 

"I suppose…why have you ever had friend…that was a girl…who you were that close to?" James asked. 

"Well…no. I had you, Sirius and Peter." 

"Want to go to Hogsmeade? I might be able to disguise you with these charms I've been learning…I think a beard, moustache and Snape's nose!" 

"Sure, if you're sure it'll work…and it _has _to wear off. I am not getting by the rest of my life with a beard, moustache and Snape's nose." James joked and sat down on his bed. Lupin grabbed his wand from his pocket. 

"_Maneius cultivatus!" Remus said, pointing his wand at James's chin. Hair sprouted from the skin at a fast rate, curling slightly when it was about four inches long. _

"Ah!" James exclaimed, his hands running to his face trying to feel the alien hair. Remus reached out, stopping James from touching the hair.

"You'll stop the growth!" 

"I don't want a beard as long as Dumbledore's!" James exclaimed, fighting Remus to let go of his wrists. "On second thought…I don't want a beard at all!" 

"You could have told me that before!" Remus yelled, ending the spell. He waved his wand again, and in an instant, the long, untamed hair was deep rouge. 

"Great…just great, Moony." James sighed in exasperation when he saw his reflection. "Just for that, no Snape nose." 

"Aw, come on! Just a little bit bigger! I'll only do one wart!" Remus bargained. "You could say your Snape's Mum!" 

"It would only be funny if he was there…" James thought out loud. "And I'd have to wear a dress, and I'm not in the mood for that right now." 

"You're no fun." Remus smiled. "I think you could get away with it…just let me change your eye colour." 

"To what?" James asked.

"How about…red." 

"I want to look different…but I don't want to look like the spawn of Satan." James laughed. 

"OK, OK no eyes. Let's go and see if Dumbledore will approve." Remus said. 

"I've never seen the castle corridors in the daylight in so long. I feel like a vampire. With a beard." James added, laughing as they exited the room.

Harry and Hermione had simply been sitting when Ron came onto the Quidditch pitch. It was nearly eleven, but they decided to play for an hour before heading to Hogsmeade. Ron boarded his broom and kicked off with Harry, and Hermione went to get the Quidditch balls from the shed. 

"Sorry for sleeping in. Must have had a _ball_ with Hermione." Ron said sarcastically. 

"It was fun, actually." Harry said, zooming off toward the rings on the left side of the pitch. Ron followed as closely behind as his broom would let him. 

"What do you _mean '_it was fun'?" Ron asked, with an edge to his voice.

"I don't know. We just talked. I don't know what it is with you and her. I know you don't hate her." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Of _course_ I don't." Ron said.

"Then why are you so against everything she stands for, and chastise her every day for her opinions." Harry put forth. 

Ron snorted. "I'm allowed to disagree." 

"I know…it's just…you could just be nice to her for once. I mean I know you are sometimes…just if she has an idea about something, like SPEW, just stand by her, you know?" Harry suggested.

"Why the sudden concern for Hermione?" Ron asked quizzically. "You don't _like her or anything…do you?" _

"No…it's just I haven't talked to her alone in a while…and it just seems like we take advantage of her." 

"How's that?" Ron asked.

"Homework." Harry laughed. 

"Well…we came out here to play Quidditch…not discuss Hermione." Ron said. They glanced down to see Hermione frantically gesturing to them, and when she saw that they noticed her, they swore they could see her rolling her eyes from fifty feet below. 

"Just leave the Bludger in. It's Saturday. We deserve a break." Ron yelled as he flew down slightly, so he was at a height where Hermione could throw the Quaffel to him. She then let the snitch out, before sitting against the box, which on occasion would shake madly, and Hermione would hit her head on the metal lock. 

Harry would try to get the Quaffel past Ron, while trying to look for the snitch at the same time. Both in the sky were completely unaware that there were two men staring at them from a hundred yards away. One was recognizable as their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and one, looking very odd indeed, was a complete stranger to all of them, or at least Ron and Hermione. 

"He's a good flier." Remus said. "Takes the injuries well too. Fell fifty feet and hardy got a scratch."

"Seeker, huh?" James said. 

"Disappointed he's not a chaser?" 

"Not really."  James shrugged. "Come on, let's go." James whispered; as he felt he could no longer watch what he had been missing for years. That should be him up there, playing Quidditch with his son, making up for lost time, but he was spineless and cowardly, afraid of his own fifteen-year-old son. 

"Did you hear about that new girl?" 

"Why was she taken from the school yesterday?"

"She's crazy! She tried to hang herself in the Dungeons!" 

By the time Ron, Hermione and Harry heard this, it seemed as if the whole student population was possessed with this new information. 

"That's horrible! How could someone do such a thing?" Hermione asked, once they had settled into a bottle of Butterbeer. 

"Told you she's mad." 

Harry said nothing. He didn't think the way the student body was taking this the right way. She was sick. But they were just feeding the fire. 

"Let's talk about something else," Harry suggested. "Hallowe'en's tomorrow." 

"Hmm. That means food." Ron said. 

"It also means Christmas it only two months away." Hermione said. "What are you doing for holidays?" 

"Um…I think I might stay at Hogwarts. Mum's sister, Agnes Margery Weasley. Aunt Agnes. Ugh." Ron groaned. "My family is so mixed up on holidays. We're all so loud. Imagine a room of screaming kids, and adults, all trying to talk over each other. Mum hates it when aunt Agnes comes over. She struck it rich by marrying a pureblood who's big in Gringgots. Just loves to discuss the Burrow." Ron said with a growl. 

"What're the holidays like with your family, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well…I don't have a large family, but They are loud. It's mostly children too. And I can't discuss anything to do with magic or school, which makes for a boring holiday." She sighed. "Most of my relatives have an idea in their heads that I'm still six year old." 

"What are you planning to do with Sirius and Remus on Christmas?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know if Sirius is going to be out of the ministry catastrophe by then. Dumbledore said it might take a while. I hope it's all over by then." Harry really didn't know what they would be doing for Christmas, because he had never had a Christmas with any kind of family that didn't include getting stuffed in the garage with a bloody nose.

"It will be, don't worry about it." Ron said. All he knew was that Sirius gave himself up to the ministry, in order to end the madness of being on the run. 

"You deserve to have a Christmas with them." Hermione dared to say, hoping Harry wouldn't take it as pity, because she felt no such thing. Not anymore at least. It was for the better of him if she gave no pity or sympathy. Empathy was out of the question. 

Harry said nothing but smiled to himself secretly. He knew he deserved at least one holiday with people who loved him. 

The night was setting in, and students were packing up their shopping and preparing to head home before they received detentions from their head of houses. The air was crisp and chilly, the branches of the trees bare with preparation for winter, and the half moon shone brightly, guiding the way back to the castle. 

By the time Ron, Harry and Hermione returned to the common room, their cheeks stung pink with cold and their fingertips were numb and aching. Fred and George were both sitting on the floor, leaning over a paper in the coffee table. The trio approached cautiously. 

"What are you up to?" Ron asked. 

"Didn't you get the letter?" Fred asked.

"Mum's making us write letters to Aunt Agnes. She didn't say it, but we have to…sort of…exaggerate. Like, my average in Potions right now is a sixty eight. Now… that will never do…we'll just switch the numbers…like so…," George said. "And voilà! An eighty six." 

"Would you like to hear the letter so far?" Fred asked. Harry, Hermione and Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Very well. OK, here goes." George said.

"_Dear Aunt Agnes,_

_We fear it's been forever since we've talked to you, but we've been awfully busy with our business. We have become Entrepreneurs and manage and market our own products of our own creation. We plan to kick our feet off the ground, so to say when we get out of Hogwarts. Our grades have been exemplarily, and we could qualify for Aurors or Healers, but we feel that we should help people the best way we know how, and that's what makes our business important to us. This summer we plan to wrap up our international tour, by visiting __Italy__, and we plan to go back to __Madrid__ to continue our sales. We also need to touch up on our Italian and Spanish._

_Hope you are well,_

_-Frederick Mathieu and George Gaston-Jacques Weasley_

"Frederick Mathieu and George Gaston-Jacques?" Ron said in exasperation. "Those aren't your middle names!"

"Yes, but we thought a French touch would really tip off Aunt Agnes. She'll never know, anyway. We've already talked to Ginny. She's agreed to become Virginia Claudette-Adrienne Weasley. You, dear brother, can be Ronald Algernon-Pascal, just because you mouthed off." 

"What? Algernon-Pascal? You're dreaming!" Ron exclaimed. "Anything but that!"

"OK…how about Ronald Russell Nicolas?" Fred suggested. 

"Fine…you two are mad. When she comes on Christmas, and sees the state of the Burrow, she's going to know you've been lying." Ron pointed out, causing George to frown.

  
"Yes…we did think of that…but we have two months to prepare. We'll think of something." George said. 

"Bonkers. The both of you." Ron yelled to his brothers as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory. 

**_AN                                                                                   and review responses_**

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_Thanks to:_

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**Hp_4ashley2000**

I'm having trouble with the mailing list, and I just got a new Norton Anti Virus and it has to check every single thing, so it takes a while. Sorry if You don't get your e-mail right away.

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-OK…I appreciate the "odd". Thank you!

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-Yes, the story will end with everyone dead but Harry and the Pope, and I'll leave it up to you to figure out who did it. *sarcasm* sorry.

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**-**I feel the same way. I love Harry/sick or Harry/pain stories. That's why I write them!

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**-**um…no…I don't.

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**-**yes, I only did that much, because I have a life other than the monitor in front of me. Is this long enough for you?

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**Sorry about the month long thing again. I'll see you later.**

_blackenedsoul_


	19. Clear Cutting

**_                                                              Author's Notes                                                                                                                     blackenedsoul_**         

_Well, I started this one early, just for you. Just as a warning, this chapter contains memories of rape, violence and maybe innuendo. I'll try not to suggest anything. The rape might be slightly graphic, but notice the rating, and notice I am pure evil, thinking up ways to rape Harry in my basement. I'm only kidding kids. I'm not evil, I'm just deranged._

_I happen to know some of you read this story and don't review it. Don't think I'm not taking names. I'll be at your house by dawn. The sun will rise and you'll see my bloodshot eyes pressed up to your window, with my red pen in hand. I'm not afraid to use it._

_Also, my poem which is hidden somewhere in this chapter, will come into play later, so I want to hear your thoughts on it. If you decode the metaphors you can see a little Harry angst. I'm improving with the song thing, but I think that reflects Harry's growth as well. Comments please._

¸.·´ (¸.*´ ¸.·´**Starseed_ClearCutting__blackenedsoul_****    .·´ ¸.·*¨) ¸.·*¨                                                                                                               
 **

By the time eight o'clock arrived, Harry had forgotten all about his meeting with Dumbledore, Remus and his father. The chilly winter wind blowing in from the north seemed to be the cause of everyone's laziness and forgetfulness. They all seemed to be reminded of what cold weather felt like and were already counting down the days until their Christmas breaks, even thought it was only the end of October. 

Harry had still been chatting with Ron, Hermione and the twins in the common room. It wasn't until he looked into the fire that he was reminded of his meeting. _Fire…__Phoenix__…Fawkes…Dumbledore! Meeting!_

Harry had taken off from the Common room through the portrait without a second glance. He could barely hear his friends calling him as he sped down the hallway, but he had not time. Hermione might know where he was going, but he hoped she wouldn't tell the others. 

Remus was waiting for him outside Dumbledore's office, and his face seemed to show relief over anger, which calmed Harry down a bit. 

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up." Remus said, ushering Harry inside. 

"I…was…lost…track…of time." Harry breathed out in a pant as he entered Dumbledore's office. 

"Sorry I'm late." Harry said, breathing easier as he sat down. 

"It's quite alright, Harry." Dumbledore said. He sighed. 

"We have been very worried about you, Harry. I would hope you were alright last night, did you get in alright?" 

"Yes sir, fine." Harry said. 

"You don't have to talk about what you did yesterday, Harry. If it upsets you too much-?" Remus started. 

"It's OK." Harry said. _They treat me like a piece of string._

"Harry…" Dumbledore sighed. "We would like it very much if you would talk about pressing charges on your uncle, at the very least." 

"Please, Harry." James pleaded, which surprised Harry to no end. He had made absolutely no eye contact with Harry since the meeting the day before, let alone utter a sentence. 

"I…I know you think you understand. I know you think that that's what you would do in my place, and maybe it is," Harry said in an uncharacteristically high voice. "But it's just not in the cards for me right now. I don't want to have to see him again. The last time I saw him he was holding a rifle to my stomach at near point blank. I-I just don't think I could. My life is just so messed up right now… just _cant. _It's impossible." Harry said in a strangled voice. 

"Harry…" Remus whispered. "Calm down. You don't have to do anything. We just wanted you to think about it and make sure you'd thought about your decision. I understand. You don't have to." 

Harry swallowed. "Thank you."

"What do you wish to talk about Harry? You can continue from where you left off yesterday…but only if you feel comfortable…" Dumbledore advised. Harry thought for a moment.

"Alright. I-I'll just pick up from where I left off…" Harry trailed off.

"Whenever you're ready, Harry." Remus said. 

_Just a child…_ That was the most prominent thought running through Remus Lupin's head as he slouched over in his seat, waiting for Harry to speak. Even though Harry looked about his age, his eyes held the coldness and hopelessness that a man three times his age might have, after a life of horror and heartache. He knew that Harry, as a child growing up the way he did, would have had to grow up quicker than even thought possible. Harry, being a neglected and abused child would have had to learn to take care of himself. 

He remembered being summoned to Dumbledore's office, two days after finding out about the death of two of his dear friends, and the betrayal and treason of another. Dumbledore had shown him the memory of Harry as he was taken away from his home and to the Dursleys. Baby Harry had been crying and calling for his Dad. Seeing this through the pensieve made Remus break down in tears. 

He felt the same sensation prickle and squeeze at his eyes at the present moment. Harry had yet to speak, and seemed to have gone into a trance. He was breathing quickly and his hands were clutching the side of his chair tightly. 

"Harry, if it's too painful to remember, you don't have to right now." Dumbledore said.

Harry didn't answer. His head was spinning and pounding and a sick feeling was rising in his stomach. He felt as if he were riding a carousel around and around, again and again. He screamed for it to stop spinning but it only went faster. He couldn't feel his arms or legs because they were so heavy. He had to close his eyes he was spinning so fast. The sick feeling was rising still; contracting his throat and making him gag. He could feel the tears but they wouldn't come. He didn't even have to try to keep them back. He wanted to let them out; to cry. He wanted to feel some sort of release from the hold and restriction the spinning carousel had over him. 

"Harry?" Dumbledore called reaching out to take the boy's hand in his own. 

_"You'll get what you deserve boy." _

Harry could feel himself shaking. Through all the spinning and sickness, he could feel his limbs shaking, his teeth chattering. 

_"Little boys should do as they're told!"_

"Harry! Harry, please." Remus begged, trying to shake Harry, but not hard enough to frighten him. 

"Remus…we need to calm him down now." Dumbledore said. "Stand back." He added, looking to Remus and James with heavy eyes. 

In only a second, it seemed, Dumbledore had raised his wand and muttered something inaudible. There was a flash of light, and Harry's head flew back to hit the wall, but not too hard. His head fell forward, but it was obvious he was still awake. His head lolled from side to side on his shoulders, as if he couldn't find the strength to lift it even the slightest bit. 

Harry felt himself peaceful, and it was as if he was floating in space. His head felt oddly bloated, but the carousel had stopped spinning, leaving him breathless. He couldn't feel a thing. He was aware, but it was hazy. 

Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder and spoke softly, as if he were whispering to himself as he sat by a river bend, forgetting about everything for a while. "Harry? That's good, keep focused on me…good. I put a calming spell on you. You were having a panic attack. You lose a stable head for a while when one occurs, and that could mean Voldemort could rise from within you.

"If it would make it less painful on you, I could perform a truth spell on you, everything you would say would come from your sub-conscious. You would be aware, but it would all come out at once, and then we could get this over with for you." 

"Please…just…get it over with." Harry mumbled. Dumbledore nodded, and whispered the spell. Harry snapped his head up, and everyone looked at him with nervous eyes.

 _What have those horrible creatures done to my son? My baby boy?_ James thought frantically. In reality he was stoic in his chair, but in his mind, he was taking Vernon Dursley and whacking him repeatedly over the head.

"Harry…? How long has this sexual abuse been going on for?" Dumbledore asked softly, returning to his seat and folding his hands on is lap. 

"From when I was three until recently." Harry replied in a strangled voice, as if the answers were being squeezed out of him forcefully. 

"Recently? When?" Dumbledore asked.

"The day before Sirius came for me." Harry answered. 

"Did this happen excessively?" Remus asked this time.

"It used to be only on weekends, because my uncle worked nights, but when he was laid off, he had nowhere else to be but home." Harry said, his voice sounding somewhat better than it had.

"How often did it happen when he was home?" Dumbledore asked, retrieving a quill, ink and parchment from a bronze box from his desk. He dipped the quill and set it to the paper. 

"It would depend." Harry stated simply. 

"Depend on what?" Remus pressed. 

"What kind of shit Dudley had been into…how hung over he was…" Harry said. He could distantly hear Dumbledore's quill scratching away at his parchment through the foggy haze that had settled into his mind which had paralyzed most of his ability to pay attention to anything. 

"Did he drink often?" Remus asked before Dumbledore even had the chance to.

"I was in the cupboard mostly, or in the garage. I didn't get to see him do it, but he made it obvious by the unmentionable stench of his breath and the sickly red shade to his eyes." Harry said. In his normal state, most of his sentences wouldn't have been nearly as complex, but this was his subconscious talking.

"What about your Aunt?" James asked. God help her if she had done anything to Harry. She had been a bitter girl, as he remembered her. 

"She never hit me." Harry said mechanically. 

"And your cousin?" Remus asked, glancing at James quickly. His eyes were slightly glazed over in frustration.

"He wasn't around after Vernon lost his job. Before that it wasn't too bad." Harry said. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Did your uncle ever make you do things…you weren't comfortable with?"

"Yes." Harry whispered, his voice cracking even through the spell. 

"Harry, don't fight the spell. Unless…do you want to speak from your own accord?" 

"Yes." Harry answered again, and Dumbledore removed the spell. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Have you had enough talking for tonight?" Remus asked, noticing how edgy Harry was in his seat. Harry nodded slightly and slouched in his chair. 

"I'm sorry I'm not so…open." Harry muttered.

"No one's making you be. We know it's hard for you, and all we want to do is help you without hurting you. We don't want you to hurt anymore." 

"Well…I have a meeting with Severus. Good evening to you all." Dumbledore bid as he left his office. But not before winking at Remus.

_Ahh…_ Remus thought with a smirk as he, too, sat up from his chair. "I er…have to turn in early tonight…I have a meeting with…er…Fudge tomorrow. Its about the trial…you know." He left before Harry could object. 

Harry shook his head and stood up to leave, his steps echoing and bouncing off the stone walls. He reached the door and opened it taking a step out. 

"Harry! Wait…" 

Harry froze. Dumbledore and Remus were gone…which left…his father. James. What could he possibly want? He wasn't too talkative before…

"Harry I wanted to talk to you about something." James said, slightly louder than his regular voice so Harry could hear him. 

Harry realized he was still standing frozen in the doorway and must look awfully stupid. He slowly turned around and faced his father. He looked just as anxious and confused as he was. Harry walked fully into the office again, leaning up against the stone wall. It chilled his back, even through his robes. Maybe it was a cold sweat of panic? He didn't know, but it was something to concentrate on. 

"S-sit down." James stuttered, silently cursing himself, Harry could tell. 

Harry did as he was asked, and sat on the edge, not knowing if he could relax enough to find the back of it. He didn't know whether James was talking or not, but he guessed he wasn't. He didn't know what to do. He'd never had a dad before, let alone talk to him. 

"Um…Sirius told me you…uh…write music." James said quickly, stuttering only a little. "Or poetry." 

"Sirius told you that?" Harry nearly exclaimed. _Sirius knew? How could he? _

"Yes. Did he ever tell you that I used to as well?" James asked, feeling bolder and leaning toward Harry in his seat. 

If possible, Harry became even more confused. He mentally shook himself and sat up straighter. 

"Um…well…no." Harry said, chewing on his nails nervously. _Where is this going?_

"Do you have anything you've written with you?" James asked, feeling proud he could form complete sentences without stuttering. 

"Well…er…yes, but you wouldn't like it." Harry said, turning away from his father slightly. He felt as if he wanted to run from the room and lock himself in his dorm. He went from absolutely no words with his father to a full interrogating conversation. 

"What makes you say that?" James asked curiously.

"It's a little morbid." Harry said.

"I don't care. I want to see it…if you'll let me." James said tentatively.

"I don't know." Harry said. "Fine…but don't laugh." 

"I promise I won't laugh." James swore. 

Harry reached deep into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a mangled piece of paper that he had been working on the night before. 

"It's not done either." Harry warned. He unfolded the paper five times and handed it over to James, who took it gently and gazed down at the scribbled words his son had written. 

_Dead orchards of sickened pity_

_Your lovely decay_

_Your oceans of red_

_The bones of the city built under you_

_Your lovely decay_

_Clotting my tears_

_The lives of the weak and living_

_The child who sees no light_

_Your lovely decay_

_The bleeding of October_

_This falling star, piercing and tearing_

_Your lovely decay_

_Walking the plank_

_This isn't my dream_

_Your l_

And that's where it stopped. James froze. Morbid, frightening…almost the same as he loved to write. Oh, how he wanted to read more, see a little more into the mind of his teenage son. 

"So…was it that bad?" Harry asked, referring to the long and drawn out silence.

"Harry…it wasn't bad at all. It's quite like what I used to do." James informed him. 

"Really?" 

"Yes." James said, handing the paper back to Harry. "I used to sing too. Acoustic guitar, as well." 

"That's cool." Harry said a slight smile on his face. How come Sirius or Remus never told him about this?

"Do you play?" James asked.

"Never learned." Harry shrugged.

"Do you sing?" James asked. _Don't live through your son. Don't live through your son_. 

"I've never tried." Harry said. "Look…I sort of left Ron and Hermione…I should be going. They'll be worried." 

"That's fine." James answered, standing up and collecting his things. Harry was already at the door.

"And…Harry?" James called. Harry stopped and turned around.

"Yeah?" Harry called, stepping back into the room.

"Goodnight." James smiled.

"'Night." Harry said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  

_Dear Journal,_

_I don't know what just happened…but…for once…I'm almost OK._

_-Harry_

Remus concentrated on the sound of his shoes on the over-polished floor. He knew this visit to Sirius's holding cell at the ministry wouldn't be easy. Everything that had come to light in the last few days was hard for everyone. They had suspected something, but nothing like this. Sirius was going to try something stupid. Remus was going to have to make sure Sirius didn't break out of his cell to see Harry. The walls of his cell prevented him from turning into Snuffles, so he couldn't squeeze through the bars again. Rage…rage and love of Harry was what had gotten Sirius to where he was, and allowed him to accomplish all he had to this point. 

Remus, having just checked in with the Auror up front, wandered down the long corridor of cells. Most were empty. These cells were for special prisoners, and those with a close trial date. There were only around ten of them, and Sirius was right at the back. 

He was lying on his makeshift bed, carving something in the wall with a fork. It was scratching away, back and forth, back and forth. 

"Padfoot?" Remus asked, stepping closer to the cell. "It's Moony." 

"Moony? Remus? Good god! Why didn't you visit me sooner? I've only seen Fudge for the last few days!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and shaking Remus's hand through the bars. 

"I'm sorry…it's just…there's been some stuff going on that I really need to talk to you about." Remus said in a sad voice.

"What? Is it about Harry? Is he alright?" Sirius said, reading Remus's face to a tea.

"Sirius… sit down." Sirius did so, though rather rigidly. Remus knelt down on the floor facing him, grimacing as he did so.

"Moony…tell me what happened." Sirius said eagerly. 

"Sirius…" Remus looked both ways around him, making sure no one would be listening. The last thing they needed was for this to be all over the papers. "Well…we knew Harry was keeping something from us.

"He had been very distant from me, Dumbledore and especially James. We tried to talk to him, but up until a couple of days ago did he didn't want to talk about anything. One day, we were finally able to get something out of him. He just broke down. He told us everything, Padfoot." Remus said, his voice breaking with unshed tears. 

"What? Told you what? Broke down? Is he alright? Tell me what's going on!" Sirius stuttered.

"He was raped by his uncle, Padfoot. According to him, ever since he was three years old." Remus said, his eyes heavy with grief. _Just give it to him straight. No point in giving it to him easy._

"Wha-Oh my god! Oh God. Oh God! He _kept_ this from us the _whole _time! Oh _God." Sirius put his head in his hands. "Is he alright?" _

"I don't know. He's perfected the art of crypticism." _Is that a word? I don't know…it fits Harry though, Remus thought._

"I just can't deal with this. I want to speak with Harry." Sirius pleaded, grabbing the bars and squeezing his head through as much as he could. "Please, p_lease_ let me see him. I _need to see him. He's everything to me, and he's hurting. I need to see him." _

"Ok, OK. I'll bring him by this weekend." Remus suggested.

"This _weekend_? What is it? Tuesday?" 

"Actually…it's Monday," said Remus. 

"Just get him here as soon as you can." Sirius begged, his face showing every bit of sadness he felt. Remus had never seen him look so crestfallen.

Harry was lying on the floor of the common room, his Divination homework sprawled out in front of him. Hermione was lying a meter away on her back, just relaxing, having finished her homework hours ago. Ron, having given up on Divination prematurely, was holding his finger in front of his face, and opening and closing his eyes one at a time muttering;

"Left side of the fire place, right side of the fire place." He repeated this over and over.

"Harry?" Ron asked, not stopping blinking. 

"Yeah?" Harry replied, not opening his eyes from his semiconscious state. 

"Wanna do something stupid? I'm really bored." Ron suggested. 

"Yeah. I just don't know if I can get up." Harry said, groaned as he rolled over onto his stomach to look at Ron. 

"Oh, please. Everything you two do is stupid." Hermione said, rolling over as well, before sitting up on her haunches. 

"The question _is…_what can we do? Think fast, 'cause I'm really bored." Harry mumbled.

They sat in silence for what seemed like an hour, which gave Harry time to think. He wondered if he'd ever be able to tell his friends everything they didn't know. They were safe for the moment in thinking they knew everything. They didn't know about him being molested by his uncle, and they didn't know that he cut himself. He didn't know what they would think if they knew. They would probably be mad, mad that Harry didn't tell them, and mad because he hadn't gotten help before this. Did they have the _right _to know…or was it none of their business? It was a very controversial question, especially in Harry's mind. 

"Harry? Can I see you in my office for a moment?" It was Professor Lupin's voice, Harry could tell without looking up. Funny…he hadn't even heard him come in. 

"What? Oh…sure." Harry said, pushing himself off the floor, his tired legs screaming at him for mercy. "I'll catch you later." Harry bid to Ron and Hermione before following his DADA Professor out the door. 

"I think they wonder where I wander off to almost every night," said Harry.

"Why don't you tell them…" He trailed off thinking. "You're helping me with a secret project involving the operation of removing Fudge from office?" 

"Yeah…but they'd want to help with that." Harry said. "I think everyone would." 

"You could tell them the truth if you're ready." Remus said, as he continued in the direction on the DADA classroom with Harry at his side. 

"I don't think so yet." Harry denied.

"That's OK." Remus said, pushing the door to his office open. "Take a seat." Remus motioned to a chair in front of his desk, usually used for kids in trouble, not that he had never been there. 

"So…what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked casually.

"I talked to Sirius. I told him everything we have been discussing in Dumbledore's office. He wants to see you. Just about had a fit in the ministry that you were having a hard time and he couldn't be there." Remus sighed. 

"I'm fine." Harry said confidently.

"You're getting there." Remus corrected, knowing Harry all too well to fall for that. "I said Saturday…is that good for you?" 

"You think I have plans? God…I'm the biggest loner to ever hit Hogwarts since Snape." Harry joked. 

Remus laughed. "Saturday it is." He paused. "James tells me you had a little talk?" 

"Yeah…how did Sirius know I um…write stuff?" Harry asked; this question had been plaguing him for hours. 

"Well…we just stumbled upon it…" Remus said, not wanting to reveal that they had been snooping. 

"Oh." Harry said simply. "How come nobody told me my dad played guitar?" 

"Never got around to it, I guess." Remus shrugged.

"Remus…is …Sirius…mad at me?" Harry said slowly. 

"Harry, no! No, no he's not. He's just surprised. It's a lot to take in. He just feels awful you have to go through this alone right now." Remus said gently.

"I'm not _really _alone…am I?" Harry grinned up at his Professor, who smiled back. 

"You should get some sleep. You're starting to look tired." Remus suggested. 

"Yeah, sure." Harry said, yawning inadvertently. He laughed. "See you later, Remus." 

Harry left the office in much lower spirits than he had let on. Despite what Remus said, he knew Sirius would be mad at him. He would be furious that he had told Remus, Dumbledore and his father about his abuse before he had told him. He was dreading the visit to the ministry on Saturday. 

He now stood before the sink in the Gryffindor boys' bathroom. He gripped the sides and leaned over; trying to catch a breath he had been deprived of for what seemed like forever. White-knuckled and hyperventilating, Harry pulled his penknife out from within the depths of his book bag, and steadied himself somewhat. _Breathe, breathe, breathe, _Harry puffed in his thoughts. He dropped the knife in the sink with shaky fingers, and stared hard at its gleaming beauty against the porcelain sink basin. It was rather worse for wear, having been roughhoused over and over. The end was starting to rust, from being rinsed so many times, and it was a little jagged from Hedwig's adventures with it. He picked it up and placed it against the scar ribbed skin of his underarm. After careful deliberation, he decided he deserved it. Only once had he harmed himself; the first night he had told Remus, Dumbledore and his father about his molestation. He watched the beaded blood run slightly from the cut before he decided it wasn't enough. He cut deeper, in a sot a little lower; closer to his thumb. The blood ran freely now, dripping into the sink. 

An hour later, as he curled up in bed, he was still coming down from the stinging and smarting euphoria. He was so out of it, he didn't even notice Ron had seen the whole thing. 

**_Author's Note                                                                                                                 blackenedsoul_**

**__**

_Heh. Left you with a cliff hanger. Hope you liked it. I think this has been my worst chapter yet, but I'll let you decide. I posted it a little faster than usual, which I hope you will appreciate. _

_I just got my new puppy. Her name's Mili. Little black lab girl. She's been chewing on my toes, giving me the power to post this early._


	20. Bright Red Screams

_………….:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:__.**Starseed**:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:**ABrightRedScream:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:****blackenedsoul:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:…………**_

****

_I hate having no control because it makes me feel small, like a child or something. Like when I see my best friend suffering and I can't do anything about it. I do like my parents told me. Be good and quiet so I don't upset him. So I could sit back and watch him falling apart. I hate it, but I already told you that. _

_I have to pace around the room with my hand in my pockets because I keep thinking about him. I'm so nervous and scared my stomach is tied up in knots and it feels cold. I feel like I just have to get out of the castle for a little while, just to feel the cold air, but I feel rooted to the ground, and the idea of leaving my pacing ground scares me. _

_I'm mad at him. We sacrifice everything to help him recover and he hurts himself. I can't leave the small foyer to the laundry chute for my fear of seeing him. I never want to see his stupid face again. _

_I know I'm being stupid about this but he's the one who's _really _being stupid. Why is he hurting himself more? _

_Just because I'm mad at him doesn't mean I'm not going to slap some common sense into him. I'm not going to leave him to his memories and blood alone. I'm not going to leave him every night to his nightmares and blood in the sink. No. He's my friend and he would do the same for me. I think._

So Ron stands there, leaning against the doorframe. He's pulling names out of his head, trying to think of who he should tell.

_  HERMIONE!_

Ron jumped at his sudden strike of brilliance and ran in the direction of the common room.

It was empty, because it being past midnight. If you were caught in the common room by a prefect you would be in detention before you could say 'I didn't do it.'

He knocked on the girls' dorms once he had reached the hall. There was no answer for a minute, so he knocked again, louder this time. 

He could hear whispers inside, but no one answered the door. He knocked again and there was a loud groan from inside, followed by rumbling footsteps. The door opened swiftly, and an angry Lavender Brown stood in the door. 

"Ron! It's three in the morning! What in blazes are you doing knocking?" She asked, and there were more footsteps. Hermione appeared at the door, her hair matted from sleeping and her eyes were red.

"Ron?" She rasped. "What? What time is it?" 

"It's three!" Lavender exclaimed quietly. 

"What? Ron! Go back to bed!" Hermione shrieked.

"No! Hermione it's important. Trust me," Ron assured her, though she still looked skeptical. "Just follow me." 

Hermione made a noise in between a yawn and a growl. Ron nearly had to drag her away from her bed and into the common room. When Ron turned back to Hermione, it seemed as if she was finally getting her wits back.

"We'll get in trouble for being in the common room!" Hermione said, wide-eyed. 

"I don't care." Ron hissed at her. "It's important! Do you just not care?" Ron asked angrily. 

"Well it depends. If you woke me up to tell me that you and Harry-," Hermione started but Ron interrupted her incredulously. 

"That's just what it's about!" Ron yelled as quietly as he could, whilst still expressing his impatience for her.

"What?"

"Harry!" Ron said.

"What? What did he do? Oh did he disappear again?" Hermione asked referring to his long hours in Dumbledore's office. 

"No…" Ron started. Was telling her the right thing to do? Should he have told a teacher first? Hermione will know what to do. "I…I just…" 

"What?" 

"I was walking by the bathroom and I remembered I forgot my toothbrush…and Harry was in there…he was hurting himself." Ron forced out, still horrified at his friends actions. 

"What? What do you mean _hurting himself_?" Hermione inquired desperately. 

"He was cutting his arms with this knife…" Ron choked out.

"Are you sure you weren't just…tired? Overworked by the school week?" Hermione said pulling excuses out of her head that would make more sense than the truth. 

"Look I know what I saw!" Ron exclaimed. 

"Ron…we have to tell a teacher!" Hermione said. "Professor Lupin needs to know about this!" 

"But…Harry'll never forgive me if I told!" Ron said, realizing this for the first time. 

"But _Ron_-," Hermione argued.

"We _can't_ tell!" Ron said, hoping to shush her. 

"Ron! Professor Lupin will help! We have to-,"

_"No we can't_ alright? We can't do anything so just stop!" Ron yelled, not bothering to be quiet. "We have to help him ourselves. He'll never forgive us!"

"_Ron." Hermione groaned, fisting her hair. "We can't help him! We haven't a clue how to! How are we supposed to know what life is like for him?" _

"He'll talk to us!" Ron said desperately. "He will. We'll tell him either he tells us everything, or we're going to tell McGonagall or Lupin or something. He'll have no choice but to tell us." Ron said, nearly amazed by the brilliance of his own plan.

"That seems a bit harsh." Hermione said. "We shouldn't have to pressure him to-,"

"We don't have a choice now do we?" Ron sneered. "We'll talk to him tomorrow after class." 

"It's your fault if he never talks to us again." Hermione whispered as she shut the door to the girls' dormitories, scowling with thoughts of Ron's plan even as she slept. 

**04:11******

Harry groaned and rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, although nothing he tried seemed to work. He eventually left the safe, warm confines of his bed and moved into the common room, after lazily pulling on his robes and grabbing his History of Magic Textbook and journal. He knew he was close to failing, and he _really needed to pass the test today. _

_Throughout the centuries, there was never such a strange band of men as the Rebels of 1801. Whilst not old themselves, they fought their own government (ministry) for the right to be free from the slavery their elders bestowed upon them. They would often murder their masters while they slept._

_When the war of the Rebels and the Elders raged, the Rebels found themselves weak, starving and exhausted. Without nearly a string of hope left, they would sing their battle song long into the morning._

_This version was uncovered from General Reed's journal._

_There is an old cookhouse, far far away_

_Where we get pork and beans, three times a day._

_Beefsteak we never see, damn-all sugar for our tea_

_And we are gradually fading away._

_Old soldiers never die,_

_Never die, never die,_

_Old soldiers never die_

_They just fade away._

_Privates they love their beer, 'most every day._

_Corporals, they love their stripes, that's what they say._

_Sergeants they love to drill. Guess them bastards always will_

_So we drill and drill until we fade away._

_Old Soldier's Never Die_

_Never die, never die_

_Old Soldier's Never Die_

_They just fade away._

_Then from the land of way down under_

_A mighty voice did say_

_Our cause is just, in God we trust_

_I will return someday_

_From __Mindanao__ to __Tarawa___

_Our battle song it grew_

_Till on Surabachi_

_At last Old Glory flew._

_From Iwo, Leyte, and a thousand Isles_

_Our just cause never ceased_

_Until one day, he did return_

_And once more, there was peace_

_Now somewhere, there stands the man_

_His duty o'er and won_

_The world will ne'er forget him_

_To him we say, "Well done."_

_Old Soldier's Never Die_

_Never die, never die_

_Old Soldier's Never Die_

_They just fade away._

Harry yawned and shut the book. There was just no hope for him today. He really didn't care whether he passed or failed History of Magic. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would never use much of that in the future. It was either History of Magic teacher, or work in a museum somewhere. That's what he figured anyway.

He pulled out his journal, flipped through the memories lost in a sea of jumbled letters on paper. He never once thought of going back and looking at the months of misery he had been subjected to. The paper was a golden brown, bent in on the dog-eared edges, and some of the ink had seeped through the back of the paper, smudging a bit, but he didn't care. It only better suited the way he felt in the pages. He picked up his quill, dipped it in ink and set it to the paper, pausing only a minute for reflection. 

_Dear Journal,_

_I'm going in for a chat with Sirius on Saturday, but even the thought of talking away my problems with Sirius (yes, I am laughing here) can't make me want to get off the couch. I just don't see the point of dragging myself to History of Magic, then DADA (even though Remus let's me be his subject for new spells), Transfiguration and then COMC. Hagrid's my friend and all, but he needs to work on his teaching skills. It's not that bad, but he is rather disorganized. I can't count on my fingers _and _toes how many times someone's been sent to the hospital wing after that class. Nothing too serious, though Parvati Patil did burn a large portion of her hair off last class._

_Ron and Hermione are annoyed with me I think. Maybe…I don't know. Hermione's nervous I'll yell at her. I won't. It's hardly ever her fault anyway. _

_It seems so much has happened in a short time that it's like a whirlwind has picked me up. I'm trying to absorb everything that's thrown at me, but sometimes I just need a break. A very long one._

_-Harry_

Classes had ended, and Harry set off for the common room, never pausing to talk to friends, or even to breathe. He collapsed on the couch.

He felt so trapped inside himself today. He was frustrated and he didn't know why. He gripped his hair and let out a growl before just leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. 

"Harry?" A small voice called out to him. He opened an eye. Ron and Hermione were staring down at him, both looked confused and concerned. 

"What? Oh…hi…" Harry said, sitting up again, wishing this time, that _they _would go away.

"Harry..." Hermione said, taking a quick glance to Ron, who shot a look back at her as if to say, "You do it."

"Harry we wanted to talk to you…" Hermione said in a strained voice. Harry cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, mate…um…come up to the dorms." Ron said, looking at Hermione, hoping she could read his eyes. _This is a bad idea. _

Harry followed, after pausing for a minute to give them a quizzical look. He was a bit frightened now, he would admit that. What do they know? Did Dumbledore or Remus tell them about…his uncle? He cringed at the thought. Nothing could be worse than his friends thinking he was disgusting and foul. They would surely abandon him. No one has to deal with their friend's problems. They shouldn't have to. _They know…oh god, they know._

When they arrived in the boys' dorms, Harry felt like backing himself into a corner, putting his hands up in defense; like he used to do at the Dursleys'. They couldn't _physically _harm him…not like Vernon Dursley could, no; they could do worse than that. They could leave him alone. 

Harry instead, sat on his bed, against the headboard. He wished he could close the hangings and avoid whatever they were going to say, but every escape operation stayed within the confines of his head. 

Hermione shut the door behind her, and leant against the door, her hand still on the knob. _Maybe she wants to get out just as much as I do… Harry thought. She looked apprehensive and anxious, as well as Ron. _

"What's going on?" Harry heard himself say. He wished he could apparate, even though it was on Hogwarts grounds. 

"Harry…" Ron said, stepping forward a bit, but looking back as if to see if the door was closed. Hermione blinked back at him, visibly squeezing the knob tighter. 

"Can you stop all this stalling? What's going on?" He felt like screaming _OUT WITH IT! JUST TELL ME!_

"Fine." Ron said rather harshly. Harry glared at him. "Look...I saw what you do to yourself." Ron, using anger, rather than running screaming from the room, which was what he really wanted to do.

"What?" Harry asked in a breathless voice. 

"I saw you in the loo last night. I saw you hurting yourself." Ron said, looking away from Harry. 

"R-Ron told me. He was scared, Harry." Hermione said softly.

"I wasn't scared." Ron challenged. "I'm just mad at you. I'm mad at you for being so selfish." 

Harry froze. _They know about…that? How did Ron see? Oh why wasn't I more careful?_ Harry was also seething with anger at Ron. _Selfish?_

"_Selfish? _You think I'm selfish?" Harry stood up from the chair and advanced on Ron. Ron stood up as well, and seemed to have the advantage, being nearly a foot taller than Harry.

"Yes! I do! We sacrifice everything for you and you go and do a thing like that! How long has this been going on?" Ron yelled.

"I don't know." Harry said. He looked to Hermione for help.

"Harry…why don't you just show us your arms." Hermione sighed wearily, as if she'd had enough.

"What? No!" Harry said. This was, once again, moving much to fast. "I don't know what you _think _you saw-,"

"I know what I saw! Harry just show us your arms!" Ron yelled. Hermione glared at Ron before speaking.

"Harry…this isn't going to go away…We know and we want to help you-," 

"No you don't!" Harry yelled back, trying to get away from the room, but Hermione wouldn't budge from the door. It took all his self restraint not to throw her from the doorway violently. 

Ron grabbed Harry and pinned him down on the bed. Harry struggled, hitting Ron around the face once, to which Ron growled and hit him back, before pinning his arms down. Harry only just noticed Hermione had left the door and was trying to get Ron to calm down. Harry was wriggling furiously, trying to get out of Ron's grip, but Ron just gripped his arms tighter. 

_"You're nothing…you're mine because you have nothing! You deserve this!"_

_"Your parents died out of shame!" _

_"You have no one! You're nothing but my little whore!" _

Harry let out a cry, whether out of pain or tears, he didn't know, maybe both. Ron stopped fighting against him and backed off slightly, getting a look at Harry's face. Harry had his eyes shut tightly and his face was screwed up in an effort not to cry. Ron was shocked to say the least, but didn't let go of Harry.

"Ron…Ron let go." Hermione said, wrenching Harry's forearms from Ron's grip. Ron stumbled back and into a dresser against the wall. He blinked a couple of times.

"Harry…" Hermione started. 

"Don't." Harry choked out, his voice cracking on several words. "Just go." 

"Harry we're not going." Hermione said, throwing a warning look to Ron, who in turn stepped closer.

"Harry…I just-,"Ron stopped himself, before continuing again. "Hermione's right. This isn't going away. The sooner you show us the sooner we can help you. There's no use in pretending that you're OK." 

"But this is what makes me OK!" Harry said, exasperated. 

"But you're _hurting _yourself!" Ron said. 

"Harry…if we saw your arms…maybe we'd understand." Hermione suggested hopefully. 

"Fine! I'll show you. Just…don't tell anyone." Harry said, looking wildly to Ron and Hermione. They nodded after glancing at one another.

_Well there's no going back now, you just admitted to it! Stupid! _

_Maybe they won't tell?_

_And if they don't? They won't understand…._

Harry pulled back the sleeve of his right arm first. That was the one with the least new cuts, because it felt uncomfortable to use his left hand to cut. 

The cuts on that arm were slightly deep and wide, showing some white tissue underneath that had once been flooded and shining with blood. They had scabbed painfully, which he had been picking at, and was still lightly bleeding in the corners, but only beading. 

Hermione put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and looked round to Ron. She looked like she wanted to be sick. Ron looked away and made a grimace.

"Is that it?" Hermione asked.

"No." Harry answered, pulling up his other sleeve. It felt like a release to show them his cuts, but also as if they were being intrusive; seeing the most private part of himself.

The left arm was still hurting him from last night when his sleeve would brush against it, or when he would accidentally lean against it. He noticed a bulb of blood in the corner from when Ron grabbed it, but other than that they were healing OK. They weren't deeper than on the other arm, just more dangerously close to the blue lines just under his hand. 

As the left hand showed, this hand as well had pieces of tissue showing through the cuts, which must have been the reason Hermione looked sick.

"Mate…" Ron sighed. "These need to be healed…" Ron said, almost touching the deeper ones. 

"Can I see?" Hermione asked, kneeling down to the foot of the bed. Harry nodded slightly and she took his arm into her hand and ran her fingers along the older ones, before coming along the pink, irritated skin along the new ones. Harry hissed, but didn't pull his hand back.

"Those are infected." Hermione noted, grimacing and looking away when her eyes landed on the deeper cuts. "That's it right?" 

Harry said nothing.

"Oh Harry…where?" Hermione sighed, her eyes filling up with tears that she blinked back quickly. 

Harry pulled up his pant leg to just below the knee and pulled his sock down under his ankle. 

Hermione gasped, and Ron made an _ugh sound, closing his eyes from the sight. Hermione's fingers came into contact with the cuts on his calves, tracing the words he had carved._

Possibly the oldest one was the pink, sharp lettering of the words _I am nothing_, which he remembered he must have written the summer after his second year. They weren't deep, but it was still visibly after years of fading. 

Second was the inscription _I can't, which he remembered he had carved on the night Vernon had been ruthless in his intention of having his way with him. _

Then there was the last he remembered doing. The night he had though he would end everything a couple days after his fourth year had ended. It simply said _NO MORE_, which was fully healed now, but the fleshy scars still remained. He had hoped if he had ended it, that whoever found him would know what was going on inside his head. 

He looked back up at Hermione, after examining the scars, and noticed she was crying freely now. He felt a prickling, stinging sensation in his eyes. He looked to Ron, wanting someone to say something. Ron finally looked up to meet Harry's eyes.

"Mate…" Ron said for the second time. "Harry…why?" 

"It's just what I've always done…it's how I deal with things." Harry's eyes filled up with tears again. "I guess…I just wanted to tell myself that no one could hurt me as much as I could. They're just bright red screams on my arms." Tears flooded out in twin streams down his face, running into the groove of his mouth. 

"Harry…" Hermione pulled him against her, and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't hug her back. He had to get out. 

"Look…I just need some time to myself OK?" Harry nearly begged, and was prepared to fall to his knees in front of them if need be.

"You're not going to…are you?" Ron asked apprehensively. 

"Not now…no." Harry said. He knew he had to be careful he didn't promise to never do it again. He knew it was a promise he couldn't keep, and he didn't want to lose his friends. Not after what they found out. 

"OK…we'll talk later then." Hermione said, and Harry knew there was no arguing. 

Ron and Hermione left without another word, and Harry buried his head in his arms and cried into the scars.

_Dear Journal,_

_My pain is mute. Pain like mine can only be expressed through red lines. Pain like mine you have to live through to understand, because outsiders assume, and that's just what they want to hear._

_Anyone looking at my scars would say they were failed suicide attempts or I'm a masochist or something. My cutting is an attempt to communicate my pain to my body, not to manipulate. I just need a distraction from all of this…a release. I want the memories to pour out of me, my demons freeing themselves from my veins. Please…just let me be empty…a pile of bones. I want to rip apart the memories…to be delivered to the sanctity of myself._

**_……….Wallflower_**

_Life slips down my fingers_

_Falls down to my feet_

_To hold something so violent_

_A broken habit never beat_

_My wastelands of memories_

_Past is filled with shame_

_I screamed for your disease_

_But you never came_

_Victim of your cold eyes_

_Teardrops like rain_

_Standing in water_

_A demon never slain_

_Restless in your palm_

_Like you know I never sleep_

_Tied them to your bed_

_The scars you long to keep_

_The ragged moonlight in ruby red_

_You can't put together_

_My red wallflower _

_The scars are forever_

_Maybe if Ron and Hermione read this…they'd understand…maybe if I'm dead they'll know what I was thinking. Damn it all to hell. I hate you journal. _

_-Harry_

AN

_I hope you like the poem, which came a little from me as well. Because I am a cutter, and I feel I can understand somewhat._

**_Fenice_**

_I actually speak French myself, but I would be too lazy. Peut-etre…peut-etre, mon petite…_

**_Aku Soku Zan87_**

_Well, not to bring you out of your sheltered, PG rated life, but it is a real life thing that does happen, and it is part of the plot. Notice the rating, my little Lotus flower._

**_oxpearxo_**

****

**_cierra_**

_I will go more graphic on the rape when Harry and Dumbledore have anther meeting._

**_Charlie- potter 1_**

****

**_Skylar_**

_Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou._

**_Thundering lights_**

_Bravo, encore and all that jazz? I may just have to steal that line…;) _

**_Coolone007_**

_Probably next chapter people will know…but I haven't decided._

**_TheSilverLady_**

****

**_Izabel_**

_Thanks for the feedback on the poem. What'd you think about this one?_

**_Kateydidnt_**

_I can't help but be mean to poor ol' Ron._

**_Kim13_**

****

**_Leigh_**

****

**_Shawn Pickett_**

_I like the way you think…_

**_Obsessed14_**

_Crying? Really? I love when people say that. Must have done something right._


	21. And I Bleed

…And I Bleed.

_I've been looking in the mirror for so long.  
That I've come to believe my souls on the other side.  
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.  
Shards of me,  
To sharp to put back together.  
To small to matter,  
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces._

_-Breathe No More [Amy Lynn Lee; Evanescence]_

Night had settled upon the castle, bringing with it the frost of the coming winter. The greenhouse windows were fogged and visibly showed the many plants that had been hastily shoved in to avoid wilting in the cold. The many rosebushes had been covered with burlap and pumpkins had been pulled and were in a group outside Hagrid's cabin waiting to be carved and illuminated.

With the coming of Halloween, James was becoming progressively more depressed. He knew the anniversary of Lily's death was approaching quicker than anticipated. The gravity of her absence seemed to be building up on him, like bricks on his shoulder that were slowly crushing him into oblivion. 

Sometimes he almost wished he had remained dead. Sometimes he wished he had never been born. It would have been better for everyone. Lily would be alive, off and married to somebody rich and handsome and Harry would never have existed. Would that be for the best? To have never lived through anything? Could death or nonexistence be better than a life of pain and misery? To live and suffer or to never live at all?

Harry was a constant pain in his stomach. He had been through too much and it was eating away at him slowly, poking at his eyes and ripping him apart in his dreams. How he longed to grab his son and just hold him, tell him he was sorry and that nothing bad would ever happen to him again. He just wished everything could go back to the way it was so long ago. He was the playful husband with a beautiful wife and son. He had his three best friends and a job he loved. Days would pass by in what seemed like seconds, and every moment was precious. Only spare minutes did he realize just how fragile life had been. How everything could collapse. How he could wake up to a nightmare that surely couldn't be his life. 

And now…

Lily was dead. Harry was distant. Sirius was imprisoned. Remus was struggling. Peter wasn't Peter anymore. 

He had nothing.

Sitting in his quarters was something he hated. He would often think about just climbing out of the window, running about the school, proclaiming that he was indeed alive. 

He often wondered if Dumbledore had told Snape. Snape knew of course that he was alive, as he had been a part of the pack of Deatheaters that had cornered him. But did he know he was in the castle? Oh he would be seething. Oh how he wished he could see that.

Sleep did not come easy for Harry that night. Ron was beside him, not snoring, but making nasal noises rather loudly. But that wasn't what was keeping him awake. 

He was so frustrated with himself. How could he be so careless? How could he allow Ron to waltz in on him? Locking the door for one thing would have been good. He wished he could just use the knife once tonight, just a small cut, but he dared not do it while Ron was there. He felt guilty enough.

His friends had been put through so much because of him. All the horrible things they had to see and be a part of. They could have been prevented. Why did he have to exist? 

He sighed in the pale light of the moon and his eyes searched for something to take his mind off of everything. It was much to warm in the room. Suffocating. 

He felt himself wandering out of the dormitories, still clad in his pajamas. He wandered down to the entrance hall of the school before he decided to stop. He leant against the cool stone walls and sighed again. 

A small sound was heard a bit away from where he was standing. No matter how small it was, he still, whipped around, his wand ready and aiming. His green eyes darted madly around, and he took a timid step to where the sound had come from. 

A flash of a shadow to the side of him caught his eye and he whipped around to the left, backing himself against the wall, his wand still up.

_You're being stupid…it's probably a mouse…_

Harry shook his head, and lowered his wand slightly. The unmistakable sound of breathing from somewhere behind him caused his wand to snap up again mechanically and he turned his heard slowly. 

Arms from nowhere grabbed him around the neck and just under his ribs. He tried to yell, to make any noise at all, but it was cut off painfully by the arm around his neck. 

He smelled something gut wrenching and tried to turn away, to get out the grip but it wouldn't slack.

"I've got you now, my boy." Harry froze, and all but stopped struggling. 

_Pettigrew. You slime. _Harry wanted to snap at him, but the arm around his neck said otherwise. He gagged.

"Come on, Potter." Pettigrew wheezed with the effort of holding Harry at bay. He was breathing heavily on Harry's ear, and he could hear through his breath that he wasn't as confident in this act as he made himself out to be.

Harry saw Pettigrew pull out his wand and point it straight at Harry whispering "Silencio" and Harry's gasping stopped. He growled inwardly and fought harder.

James stared out the window longingly. Fresh air….even the thought of such a release as breathing in the crisp autumn air made him smile sadly. He had been watching the birds preparing to fly southward for nearly three hours. He was disappointed Dumbledore hadn't come to visit with him today, but he was the headmaster and he did have his duties. 

He saw two figures moving very closely together in the darkness. His quarters were rather low to the ground, but they still appeared small. Who were they?  Pranksters out to carve swear words into the pumpkins? A couple out for a snog? 

One appeared to be struggling. He sat up in his chair and leant over to get a better look. Something wasn't right. It was around one in the morning…no one would see him if he were to go and check this out right?

He grabbed his cloak and pulled the hood over his head, walking out the door and shutting it nearly soundlessly. 

He ran, knowing that if someone was in trouble, time was ticking fast. He ran to the entrance hall and paused at the front doors, pushing one open only a crack and the door involuntarily moaned on its hinges.

He searched the grounds trying to figure out just where he had seen the two figures. When he couldn't see a thing, he tentatively stepped out onto the grounds and raced to a large oak tree and bent behind it, and began searching again.

Dark shadows. It was so hard to find two figures when there were so many trees. His feet made a crunching sound as they stumbled on the fallen leaves. His eyebrows furrowed and he straightened his glasses on his nose before returning his eyes to the grounds before him. He heard a rustling but assumed it was his feet, and planted them firmly on the ground, so he wouldn't make any more noise.

When James heard it again he was sure it wasn't him. He looked westward; toward the noise and saw a shadow that certainly wasn't a tree. 

He moved closer, still behind the tree, but so that the moon's light was shining as close to the figures as possible. He could see little more than black robes, and the basic shapes of both of the people. Through the dead of the night he could see one was holding the other around the neck. The other figures arms were clutching that arm, trying to rid it. 

He growled quietly and moved, trying to see their faces but all that did was push the moon rays away. James swore and looked again.

The figures must have moved because now he could see their faces almost perfectly. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a face he wished he could never have to see again. Wormtail. He looked away for a second, just to collect himself. He was staring at the man who betrayed him, who _killed him and Lily. It was only when he remembered about the other figure did he look back._

He swore his heart had stopped at the moment he caught the other figure's face. It could be the only possible explanation for why his chest was so tight. 

Harry. Even if the boy didn't have his glasses, James could recognize him, even from this far away. He could see his vibrant green eyes shining in the glow of the moon as he fought in his captor's grip. James found he could no longer stay behind the tree, and stood up slowly, determined to save his son and get his revenge.

Remus sat in Dumbledore's office, where he would joke that he spent most of his time. They were meeting in private, deciding to leave Harry to rest for a couple of days, and allow James to grieve. 

"Poppy fears he may need extensive counseling and therapy. But…I don't think Harry would be up to that kind of help." Dumbledore said, resting his knotted hands on his desk gently. "I feel we may have to force him to at least be checked upon by a professional who is trained for this. Poppy has some excellent recommendations for a few, whom she has talked to and they all feel that Harry may be suffering from several different things." 

"Such as?" Remus asked, not rudely but eagerly.

"Most feel that adolescents like Harry develop several conditions such as Chiraptophobia, Androphobia Mnemophobia." Dumbledore said, looking at Remus's face, which was furrowed. 

"In plain English?" Remus asked with a slight laugh.

"Chiraptophobia is the fear of being touched, commonly found in victims of sexual abuse. Androphobia is the fear of men, though that one has been proven incorrect. He has clung to you and Sirius like a lifeline. Mnemophobia is the fear of memories, which does concern me due to his recent panic attack in my office." Dumbledore said, his now constant look of worry for one boy growing steadily.

"But…you don't think he's…keeping this all to himself do you?" Remus asked anxiously.

"Yes," Dumbledore said bluntly, pushing his long, silver beard to one side and sighed in weariness. "…and James is doing the same." 

"This must be horrible for him…" Remus sighed and buried his head in his hands, but only to catch his breath for a moment. When he looked up again, Dumbledore was smiling. "I honestly don't see what could be so amusing at a time like this Albus." 

"They need each other, they'll realize it soon," Dumbledore with a hearty laugh.

Harry could never remember a time he felt so weightless. The last thing he remembered was Pettigrew's arm tightening around his neck and yelling…yelling from somewhere far away. Everything was swirling an echoing around him, but he succumbed to the floating sea of white that closed in around him, like a pleasant light surrounding him.

"WORMTAIL!" James bellowed, launching himself at the man in front of him, trying to knock Harry from his grip. Pettigrew held onto Harry tightly, and whipped out his wand when James was knocked over. He held it to Harry's temple, his hands shaking.

"Take one more step and I'll kill him, James. I swear I will." Pettigrew's voice shook, but James did not step forward. Harry's head was lolled to the side, and his eyes were closed. 

"You bastard." James hissed, and yelped when he felt hands grab him from behind him, and a hand over his mouth. He yelled into the hand. 

"Remember me Potter?" a venomous voice drawled into his ear and his head tried desperately to turn and look at the man behind him, though he already knew who it was. "Got away from me last time, but there's no escaping now. You and your boy will come with me." Malfoy's voice was business-like, as if he had done this a million times.

"Now, now calm down, we're going on a little trip now." Malfoy whispered sourly.

That was the last thing James remembered before everything went black.

When Harry opened his eyes, he felt cold stone pressing painfully into his back. He looked around and found blurred orbs of neutral colour surrounding him and he felt around for his glasses near blindly.

"They're not here," a voice said. A musty, tired voice Harry had heard several times before. He looked up to the blurry face of his father and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He looked around for any other blurry figures but found none.

"What? How did you-?" Harry stuttered, trying to sit up, but slipped down again. 

"Careful. You blacked out." James said. Harry could see the outline of him sitting opposite of him, against the pale concrete wall and cobblestone floor.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, holding his head with his right hand, massaging it loosely. "What happened?"

"I found Pettigrew and you out on the grounds. Malfoy caught me and they brought us here." James said, tossing a rock from the corner to the wall Harry was laying near, a little ways to the left. It made at _clunking noise and fell to the ground._

"And where is here?" Harry asked, his vision clearing a bit, and he could now see his father's expression. It was one laced with anxiety and nervousness.

"I don't know. Probably a Deatheater's home. It's where meetings take place and most of their captures are imprisoned." James said. 

"Do you think Dumbledore knows by now?" Harry asked, wondering if people had begun to search for them.

"I don't know when _now _is. It could be fifteen minutes since we were taken from Hogwarts. They probably won't know until morning." James informed Harry, who sighed and sunk deeper into the floor.

"Are you OK? Did he hurt you?" James asked. As they left his mouth he wished he could catch them and stuff them back into his mouth. Sirius told him Harry didn't like to be babied. 

"No, I'm fine." Harry said. He didn't sound angry, but maybe it was because the situation was just too new and strange. "Are you?" Harry added tentative. 

"They only stunned me. Pettigrew was being pretty rough with you though." James said, trying to make it sound like casual conversation.

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't want to add another "I'm fine". He just sighed and let his head fall against the cold floor once more. They were silent for twenty minutes before an echoing tapping noise drew them from their thoughts.

"They're coming." James said hurriedly. "Sit against the wall and don't move." He whispered frantically to his son, who drunkenly complied, still dizzy. 

As the footfalls approached, Harry watched his father's expression as much as he could through the blurriness of his vision. He was breathing very hard. _He's scared. Harry thought. __Why is he scared? What are they going to do to us? Surely they couldn't be worse than uncle Vernon? Surely they couldn't hurt him the way he always could._

The second the door opened Harry doubted all his thoughts telling him he'd be alright. He couldn't see the man's face, only his silhouette against the darkness on the other side of the door. The man didn't enter right away; he looked around the room, sniffed, and took one step in casually. 

Harry didn't even hear the man mutter "_lumos", _but a second later there was a bright light shining in his face and he brought his hands up to shield his eyes. The man stepped forward and pushed Harry's hands down and looked at his face, as though examining him.

"Master requests your presence for dinner." The man said gruffly. Harry blinked in surprise. _Master…he must be talking about Voldemort. DINNER? Why does Voldemort want me to have dinner with him? _

"Come on, boy." The man said, not harshly, but out of impatience. He grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him up. Harry looked frantically to his father, begging him with his eyes. _Please don't make me go. _

The man started to pull him out of the room, but Harry spoke. "W-what about-?" The man knew Harry spoke of his father, but simply pulled him out the door sharply before he could speak again. Harry struggled all the way there, until his scar began to burn. The fiery pain in his head brought him to the reality of what he was going to face. Death maybe? He didn't care. He just hoped it was quick.

They came to a large dinning hall at the end of a large corridor. Black drapes blocked the moonlight from filtering into the room, leaving it in shadows. Five candles shone on a long table in the center of the room illuminating just a small bit of the room, but not enough to get a good look at where he was. 

Harry was pulled to the end of the table he was closest to. When he sat down, six new candles lit. He didn't know where they were previously for the darkness in the room. It was cold; he could see even in the darkness his breath coming out in white puffs. He crossed his arms in a feeble attempt to get warm. He could feel the goosepimples on his legs, but he was too curious to pay them any attention. He wished there was a light…that he could whip out his wand and say _lumos and he could see where he was, or what was going on around him._

He could hear voices now. He recognized the voice of the man who had dragged him, but the others were too distant to listen properly. 

He wanted to speak, to ask what was going on but he held his tongue. They didn't bring him to sit in the darkness. Something was bound to happen soon.

It wasn't a second that that thought had left his mind that candles lit at the other end of the table. It was a lot longer than he had originally thought. His eyes struggled to make out the figure, but he could only see the silhouette. It was thin, he could tell, but was wearing thick robes sheepskin robes he guessed. 

"Welcome, Harry." 

Harry felt the hairs rise on his neck when he heard that voice. Breath seemed to be robbed from him as the sound bounced in all corners of his head, replaying itself until it spoke again.

"Welcome, to the house of Lady Desdemona." 

In a flash there were hundreds of candles in flame all around, some floating in a current, some perched around the table. The ones on the table looked as if they had been afire for hours; the wax was creating mountains beneath the candles, building them higher and thinner.

Harry had to blink his eyes and close them tightly. The light was so bright, yet he felt as if he were in complete darkness. 

"Where am I?" Harry asked in a cracked voice.

"The house of Lady Desdemona has been empty since her untimely murder. You are in my kingdom, my castle, my quarters. I welcome you Harry. You will join me for dinner." This was the first time Harry could see his face well. He nearly screamed. It wasn't the deformed, sunken face he had seen before, but a young, fresh face. The face of Tom Riddle.

"How-what?" Harry stuttered, gripping the table runner tightly. 

"Yes, Potter, I have rejuvenated myself through your blood." He said. It was the same creaky, scratch voice he had heard in the graveyard, but coming from a new face it seemed so different.

_Through….my blood?_ Harry thought. He couldn't draw his eyes away from the now young face of Voldemort. 

"Drink, Potter." He said, not harshly, but almost softly. Gesturing to the goblet in front of Harry. He couldn't see what was in it, but it was smoking slightly, foaming over the top.

"No." Harry said stubbornly. It _must _be poison. 

"Do you think I would poison my guest?" He spoke again, as if he was innocent…as if Harry was simply here on invitation…

"Yes." Harry answered simply again, wanting desperately for Voldemort to look away; so he could switch their glasses. But the table was much too long. 

"You will drink." Harry felt himself drinking it in spite of himself, wanting that voice to stop. 

The second it had slipped down his throat, he felt his head feel cloudy, and he could no longer feel his tongue in his mouth. The goblet slipped from his fingers and into his lap, but he couldn't feel the liquid hissing and burning through his robe. 

"I was such a fool to think I could break you…To get into your mind and hurt you so easily." A long, slender finger ran along his cheek. He was looking forward, in a trance now, not being able to feel anything but the finger on his face, near his ear.

The finger ran along, up to his upper cheek bone, near his eye. 

Harry was stuck in his trance-like state again. This was all too familiar. He screamed. He wanted Voldemort to stop touching him, for himself to stop doing nothing. 

He was looking from the outside it seemed, watching as Voldemort stopped stroking his face and gently take his arm in his hands. He pushed back the sleeve of Harry's robe and ran his fingers along the scars and wounds.

"No one can hurt you more than you can hurt yourself. You are broken on your own hand…" He whispered softly, making Harry yell at himself again. "You remind me of myself Harry. But I was broken by the ones who seemed so loyal to me…they will try to break you Harry. They will hurt you." 

Hours later, Harry woke up to breathing next to his ear. He jumped and pulled away from the embrace holding him. He was relieved to stare back into the face of his father. 

"You were crying in your sleep…I-I" James stuttered, but Harry just fell back into his fathers arms, trying to forget everything. When did he get back here? He didn't know, he just knew he liked the warm arms around him. Warm…not cold fingers…

"What happened out there?" James asked, nearly crying at the feeling of having his son in his arms again. 

"I-I can't remember. I want to go home…" Whether he meant Hogwarts or Sirius's house, he didn't know. He just wanted to get away from the cold fingers, which seemed to still be threatening to touch him again in the corner of his mind. It reminded him of all those times as a child when he was so confused about why they were touching him, hurting him the way they were. 

"We will. Hang on." James whispered, running a hand through his son's hair, and was surprised when Harry didn't flinch, as Kames saw he sometimes did when Remus or Sirius would touch him.

"It's going to be OK." James tried, hoping to get Harry to stop shaking.

_Lie to me,  
Convince me that I've been sick forever.  
And all of this,  
Will make sense when I get better._

_This chapter may be a bit confusing. Not slash, just Voldemort wanting to connect and heal the younger part of himself, I guess, but I won't touch on that much. Voldemort's still evil…_

**_I'm, worried about the lack of interest in this story, so I'm thinking of just killing it off if people don't review. I'm writing another story but I want to finish this one first, but that will depend of the level of interest. _**

_On a lighter note, I went to go and see Evanescence and Finger Eleven in __Toronto__! Yeah! It was so awesome! I was screaming so much I took the day off because of my throat. Oww…_

_Keep the story alive and review. Please…_


	22. White Horses

[note: Ellie is from La Sarre, Québec, and I am slowly translating the story for her…]

Ellie [Aucun problème. Merci pour demander. Je le ferais en dépit de la langue! Vous avez de la chance je parle Français...:P]

A Serpents Attire [I love your name ;)]

coolone007 [How is this for sooner?]

hp_4ashley2000 [I've been debating on when I will put it in…but probably later rather than sooner… :( ]

FawkesnFlame and Moony [it's not from an album, just an independent song called Breathe No More]

Cheese-Face [Thanks, nice name :P]

Brittany [aww…thanks. Do you want me to add you to the mailing list with your new e-mail?]

charlie-potter1 [nanner nanner nanner! Just kidding. The concert was really great!]

Cresha Potter [thanks!]

Ashes7 [thanks!]

brokenhalos [thanks!]

Englishgirl [with all the positive input, and now than people are actually *reviewing* I plan on finishing it]

Adenara Yatman [thanks!]

Veron Maya [thanks!]

Mrs. Padfoot [thanks :D]

SiriusBlackFan15 [I thought it might have been confusing…but it was hard to explain.]

Faith [thanks!]

Skylar [Yeah, I do look like Amy Lee, but oh well, it's a good thing!]

Shawn Pickett [thanks a lot!]

Irritated [language, my dear…there are children a foot. I only meant that people aren't reviewing as much as they used to.]

angel74 [thanks! You had better update Echoes of the Mind, too!]

Fenice [thanks a lot!]

Cruel Kindness [People just weren't reviewing as much as they used to…]

Mythology [thanks!]

Rubberduckie713 [thanks so much if you do! I'll have to check out your stories ;)]

ashley [ I hope it's just because of that…0_o]

alternativelyspliced [LOVE the name! I'm glad you like my poetry!]

Saf Saf [thanks!]

Zenya [well...a lot of people who try to write self injury, don't do it themselves…]

Na [thanks!]

Rachael [thanks!]

ootp-rules [thanks so much! I'm glad you like my poetry! :D]

Sword Weilder – Firebreath [thanks ever so much! (cuts off cheap imitation of being well brought up) I'm done now…

_Starseed_//**White Horses//_blackenedsoul_**
    
    _Goodnight, sleep tight_
    
    _No more tears_
    
    _in the morning, I'll be here_
    
    _And when we say goodnight,_
    
    _Dry your eyes_

James sits back and watches a pale, soft face through the light of a single candle on the wicker table. The candle had been a grace of one cloaked figure. 

He touches the pieces of black hair that have fallen in front of the boy's closed eyes like the solid midnight around them. It was tangled like an old porcelain doll. His eyelashes gently brushed against his cheekbones, making James want to touch his eyes, to run his hands along the face that seemed so perfect. He made this. He made this boy down to the tiny goose bumps on the back of his neck.

James noted that Harry shakes while he sleeps, his hands shaking slightly, and his lip trembling from whatever thought was traveling through his mind. Maybe it was because he was cold…or maybe he was scared. 

Whenever James couldn't resist the urge to hold his son closer, to feel some of what he had been missing for so long, Harry would back away and tremble for a second, before falling back into his tired sleep.

James had reached out and taken the smaller hand of his son and held it in his own. They fit so well. His were cold…but only slightly. 

He could see the tiny blue veins across his skin like a map to his inside. 

Even after Harry had fallen asleep James kept talking to him quietly, whispering comforting words even if he doubted Harry could hear them. He kept talking because he had seen those scared, green eyes. The way they shrunk back, he'd seen it before. It just about broke his heart.

James's hand brushed across black tangled hair, running beneath it like spiders, hoping Harry wouldn't wake up, so he would have to let go. Let go and have to watch him grow up from a distance again.

…And he dreams.

_I could hear you crying in the other room, wailing for me. I climbed out of bed and walked 0into your room, much too big for such a small child._

_You're face was red and twisted from crying, and your hands rested against the bars of the crib, gripping tightly, as if you were imprisoned. _

_When you looked at me I couldn't help but smile. Your face softened slightly, its natural pale returning and the tears dripping dry. You looked at me with those beautiful eyes, which looked so big against your small face. They flickered in the moonlight, like butterfly wings in the pale moon's glow. _

_Everything in your room looked in the darkness as if I was looking at it through a kaleidoscope, or broken cathedral windows. Broken, graying__ colours_.__

_I held you in my arms even after you had fallen asleep, smelling the soft smell of Lily's perfume on your nightclothes. Your skin was light like fairy dust, and smooth as marble. _

_I couldn't count how many times you laughed in one day, but I did know it saved me from everything. Saved Lily from everything. Your laugh released us from the doubt that the world wasn't worth the trouble. It brought me back to the place inside myself that I know there's a world beyond pain. _

_The presence of your innocent self lingers in my soul as if it's your silent plea that you're still my baby. I can still feel the warm summer nights when Lily and I took you out to the ocean. It was our place, where we took you to relieve the fault line that had been placed between us and the rest of the world. You would fall asleep to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, your ebony tresses blowing in the salty air. I remember, but I know you never will. _

_The night we brought you home Lily had lost her mind in you. Everyone told us once we had children we would lose our freedom, but all Lily wanted to do was be with you, trying to shelter you from whatever bad might happen. She tried not to smother you. She became engrossed in old children's literature. She said it would give you a little culture. She seemed to forget you were just a baby sometimes. She would turn them into songs, and sang to you as you fell asleep. _
    
    _Hush, baby, my dolly, I pray you don't cry,_
    
    _And I'll give you some bread, and some milk by-and-by;_
    
    _Or perhaps you like custard, or, maybe, a tart,_

_Then to either you're welcome, with all my heart._
    
    _Sleep, baby, sleep,_
    
    _Our cottage vale is deep:_
    
    _The little lamb is on the green,_
    
    _With woolly fleece so soft and clean--_
    
    _Sleep, baby, sleep._
    
    _Sleep, baby, sleep,_
    
    _Down where the woodbines creep;_
    
    _Be always like the lamb so mild,_
    
    _A kind, and sweet, and gentle child._
    
    _Sleep, baby, sleep._

_I would sit with her as she sang to you, but stayed as she left for bed, kissing her cheek softly. I touched the blankets beside your bed, not wanting to wake you, but missing your presence in my arms. _

_I remember this to hold me together. I wonder how you can manage without these memories. I know they would help you, to show you just how much your Mum and Dad loved you. I know I can't fix you, because I know you're not broken. Your face holds the memories you tried to repress, but only smothered yourself in things a child should be naïve to. Nothing can break you. You're my son. My baby…and nothing will change that.  _

Harry had James had been missing for nearly two days. Aurors hadn't left Hogwarts since Dumbledore had contacted the ministry of Harry and James's disappearance. The students were curious and frightened.

Voldemort had been in contact with Dumbledore on the first night, none of the staff had ever recalled the man being so angry. He obviously cared for Harry and James very much, but Voldemort wasn't intimidated. 

"Don't touch the boy, Tom." Dumbledore hissed, glaring at the image Voldemort had imbedded in a letter.

"He's mine, now." Voldemort replied, looking more darkly into Dumbledore's eyes. Dumbledore had not been surprised by his appearance, and had been guessing he would have used Harry's blood to his own benefit. "He's mine." 

"Send him home." Remus spoke bravely. "What are you doing to him and James?" 

"I haven't hurt them." Voldemort spoke half-heartedly. "But tomorrow's a new day." 

"You haven't the strength to hurt Harry. I know he reminds you of yourself, Tom. We can all see through you like glass. You're spineless." Remus said venomously. Dumbledore threw the letter in the fire, choosing not to let Voldemort say more. 

Not an hour later, they received a letter, it wasn't signed, but it was clear who it was from.

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

_Never say never._

"They'll be dead in a week, Dumbledore." McGonagall said in a cracked voice, her gloved hand over her mouth as if to hold her fright inside. 

"We have to be careful in how we handle this situation. Voldemort could very well hurt Harry and simply do away with James." Dumbledore answered gravely.

"Should I contact Sirius?" Remus asked.

"Yes, I think you should." Dumbledore nodded.

"His trial is only two weeks away…We need James as a witness." McGonagall said. 

"We have enough statements from James to piece the trial together and have it go smoothly. He will be very distraught at their disappearance, which could affect his court appearance." Dumbledore said.

Harry woke up to the blurry image of James sitting up next to him, peering down, worried. Harry felt something on his face and felt dried tears. Crisp lines from his eyes to his chin, curving around his cheekbones. 

"You were crying in your sleep earlier. Did you have a nightmare?" James asked awkwardly, fisting his dirty robes in one hand.

"Yes." Harry answered pitifully, lying down on the cold stone again. He breathed in the musty smell, dust entering his lungs, but he didn't think he had the strength to cough.  He just wanted to fall asleep again. Worry plagued him and he sat up and looked into James' eyes, feeling a little vulnerable.

"Are they going to find us?" Harry asked feebly.

"I hope so." _That was comforting…_ Harry thought bitterly, as he lay down again, closing his eyes. 

An hour later, Harry was awoken to the moaning and creaking of the wooden plank door, as it was pushed open. He sat up quickly, reaching blindly for something to throw at the intruder. 

Once again, it was a cryptic figure, its hood pulled over its face, and black robes flowing to the floor. He walked swiftly over to Harry and James. James was still asleep, but was jolted awake when the figure grabbed him by the arm and dragged him and Harry out of the door. 

Harry was jabbed in the side when he started to fight weakly, and James was just following. Harry couldn't believe his father wasn't fighting. It was like he was _ready _to give up. Like he didn't care. 

"Stop fidgeting, boy!" The figure yelled, hitting him around the face once. Harry stopped fighting for a second, but James was fighting now, obviously angry this figure had touched his son in such a way. 

Before Harry even realized they weren't in the hallway anymore, they were roughly dropped on the ground and the figure swept away. 

Harry looked up. He was in the same large dinning hall he was in the night before, but now the sunlight was entering the room without the barrier of the curtains and shutters. It was larger than he had originally thought, the walls a graying yellow. Exotic flowers were in one corner of the room, big bunches of heliconia and ginger stems. An enchanted hibiscus was snapping away at many dark figures trying to clip its leaves. 

This was not in any way what Harry had imagined the Dark Lord's warren to be like. He was surprised, but hid it from his face. He knew it was important to never let your enemies surprise you. He looked to his father. James was looking about with his face scrunched in confusion, preferring to say 'the hell with it' and let his confusion show. 

"Ah….James." James jumped and turned abruptly to his right, to face the voice. He jumped back when he saw the young look of Tom Riddle. 

"Your son's blood did wonders for me." He hissed. An unpleasant smile played at his lips at James's expression, one of shock and disgust.

"I grow weary of both of you. I watched you sleep Mr. Potter. You trust much too easily." Voldemort sneered. "You're so desperate for family. He's not what he seems, your father." 

"What are you talking about?" James exclaimed. "I have hid nothing from you!" 

He looked quickly to Harry, who was looking from him to Voldemort with a scrunched expression. 

"He will hurt you." Voldemort whispered in Harry's ear, so James couldn't hear him. Harry backed away slightly, trying to get away from the pain in his scar. "Can you remember hurt like that? Can you remember lying awake with the bruises? Do you remember being afraid of the pain they would cause you? I'm sure you remember being alone in the dark, bleeding with no one to save you." 

Harry made a noise halfway between a sob and a shriek of horror. "You don't know anything!" 

Voldemort lowered himself to Harry's level on the floor. "You think I didn't _watch you?" He allowed James to hear the conversation this time, and before Harry could even take in what Voldemort had said, James had launched himself at Voldemort._

James was thrown back by a red streak of light from Voldemort's wand and went crashing into the wall opposite. He groaned.

"Leave him!" Harry yelled, standing up and staring down Voldemort. 

"You care for his safety? Do you _love _him? Let's play a little game…" Voldemort grinned menacingly towards Harry, and then turned to James. "Stand up, fool!" 

James coughed, and shakily placed his hands on the floor, pulling himself up slowly. Harry looked on with worry in his eyes, though not aware of it. 

As soon as James had both of his feet firmly on the ground and was standing up, Voldemort turned to him, his wand pointed between his eyes. "_Imperio."_

James froze, as though petrified. Harry was staring confused at his father. He had been the heir to Gryffindor! He would be able to block that curse easily…

"Come here, James." Voldemort said quietly, beckoning him with his finger. James walked slowly, his eyes glazed over. Harry knew that look. He remembered it fro his fourth year at Hogwarts with Mad-Eye Moody.

"You love your son, don't you James?" Voldemort sneered, giving James a pointed look, to which he nodded in response, the glazed look still hovering in his eyes, like a storm cloud.

"Show him how much." Voldemort said, the disgusting smile returning to his face. Harry watched as his father advanced towards him, without any facial expression whatsoever. 

James stood before Harry, and Harry simply found himself frozen to the spot, as if his feet had rooted themselves to the floor. He looked up into his father's eyes, looking for some sign that he was still in there. 

Before Harry could even register what was going on, a hand came out of seemingly nowhere and struck him hard, just below his eye. Harry's head whipped to the side with the strength of the blow. His eyes traveled to his father, whose hand was still raised. Harry brought a hand to his face, tears stinging at his eyes. Hollowed memories burning the back of his throat. 

_"No one wants you, that's why you're here, boy." _

_"They know what I do to you, they just don't care." _

_"That bitch mother of yours would beat you too. You're nothing." _

Harry hadn't even awoken from the memories before the hand came back and struck him open handed on the side of the face. This blow was much stronger, and Harry found himself on the ground, tears on his cheeks. 

"Stop it!" Harry cried, trying to scoot away from James, crawling away. He was grabbed roughly around the shoulders and turned so he was lying flat on his back. The first punch sent Harry's head back into the floor tiles. His head felt heavy after that point, and he felt he couldn't lift it more than an inch off the ground. 

James stood then, his foot raising and hitting Harry hard in the side. He screamed in pain, and tried to roll over, to protect himself, but hands grabbed him. The kicking continued until Harry couldn't tell the individual blows anymore, just an ongoing pain. 

"Good boy, James. Show him how much you love him." Voldemort hissed, standing nearby, his eyes glued to the scene.

"Stop it, please! Dad, please!" Harry yelled. He didn't even think about the word _Dad when he had said it; he just wanted to escape the pain. He just wanted it all to stop._

James froze again, and so did Harry, expecting more blows, but not brave enough to take his hands away from protecting his face. He only now, in the complete silence of the room, realized he was sobbing. 

"Fool! NOW!" Voldemort yelled, but James stayed frozen, the clouds leaving his eyes slowly. He looked at his hand, the smarting pain in his knuckles. They were dotted with blood, and reddening under the strength of the blows. He looked to the boy at his feet and stepped back in shock. The boy was sobbing, hands over his face, which was scratched and bleeding, his lip swollen. There was a growing spot of blood on the floor next to Harry's head.

"Harry…" James whispered in shock. "_What did you do_?" James yelled at Voldemort, rage evident in his eyes, as they sparked with a hatred Harry had never seen before. 

"You bastard!" James yelled, running forward, as if to tackle him to the ground, but a pair of hands, belonging to a cloaked figure grabbed him, holding him back from any harm he was thinking of.

"That will be all. Take them away." Voldemort said, turning his back on all in the room and walking towards the long mahogany table they had used for dinner. 

Harry lay awake long into the night, feeling safer now that his father had been placed in a separate room. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't his father, that he wasn't in his right mind, but a voice kept telling him that he should have been able to stop the curse.

He traced pictures of stars on the walls, trying to occupy his time, trying to keep his mind away from the sharp pain in his side. He thought about everything, everything that had happened in the last couple of hours. He felt he couldn't express his pain in any other way, so he began to sing to himself softly.

_Kaleidoscope pictures and ruined lullabies_

_Melodies of tears and rain_

_Watching the planets and butterflies_

_Frozen pieces of your memories,_

_Scorched black like embers_

_To be inside the one that holds you_

_Red rain that never remembers _

_The guns you keep under your bed_

_Keeps the monsters away,_

_Holds you from the wind_

_Reminds you you're OK._

His voice was soft and quiet, near a whisper. He didn't even know how he knew what words he wanted to say. They flowed from him. The pain he was feeling was too much. Much more than the times he had spent hours working on the words in his journal, trying to get them just right. 

The tune was light and happy, one he remembered from somewhere he couldn't recall. He felt better now, like a dark presence had left him. It was like a giant exhale, one he felt he had been holding for much too long. He smiled. 

"We're doing everything we can-," 

"No! No you're not! You should be out there! _I _should be out there!" Sirius yelled, his hands gripping the bars desperately. 

"Sirius, your trial is in two weeks. You need to relax or they'll think your crazy!" Remus said, smiling slightly.

"This isn't funny! I could lose the two people who mean the most to me! I can't live without them, Remus I just can't! I'll have no one!" Sirius cried.

"You always do this! Did it ever occur to you that I love you Sirius? That you're my brother? You never cared about me did you Sirius? When James died you said you had nobody! Did you just forget about me? Or was I just never even in the furthest corners of your memory?" Remus yelled, shaking the bars of Sirius' cell madly. 

"Don't turn this into your problem!" Sirius bellowed angrily.

"You know what? This _isn't _my problem! It's yours! I hope it works out for you." Remus added softly, tears stinging his eyes, and he stomped from the room before Sirius could see him crying. See how much he had hurt him. He needed to be alone. He was so lost and there was no one to help him.

Harry sat alone for the night, the cold of the stone walls settling in on his skin, making him shiver. His teeth were clacking, making it very painful for his swollen lip. He cringed as he accidentally rolled over onto his bruised side. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, ignoring the pain this brought. 

_Please…just let me be dead. Let this whole nightmare be over. I've had enough of hurting all the time. _

Harry didn't even realize right away that he was silently crying, leaving pearls of his tears on his cheeks. He had thought he was feeling alright, that singing to himself would make it all better. 

He needed his blade. He realized that. He wished desperately for something sharp, anything sharp enough to cut through his flesh and drain him dry. 

He cried even harder, making soft whimpering sounds, when he realized that if he was in the presence of his blade, he would end it right then. He would die right there, never seeing his friends or family again, but right now, he didn't care. He didn't want to think about them. Maybe Voldemort was right when he said everyone he trusts will hurt him…His own father had _beat him for Merlin's sake. What did that mean for Dumbledore? Ron? Hermione? Sirius? Remus? Would they all hurt him too? Did they want to? Would they want revenge for him making their lives so horrible? He couldn't go back. That was the simple answer. He wouldn't go back and they could forget about him for good. They wouldn't even have to think about the insufferable little boy who had turned their lives around for the worse. _

James lifted his head and brought it down hard on the stone floor. How could he be so stupid? He _knew _Voldemort would try something like this. He _knew _he wouldn't be able to fight the Imperious curse, now that his powers were gone and transferred to Harry. 

What a sick and twisted thing to try on a child like Harry, who had been through so much and was finally starting to get better, finally starting to be like his old self, not that James knew what Harry's old self was like. 

He would gladly let Voldemort just kill him and let Harry go. So Harry could get back to Moony and never have to worry about this again. He could be safe…that's all he wanted.

Harry closed his eyes against the heavy darkness. Even through his heavy exhaustion he sang to himself again, quiet and slow. Hoping that feeling of safety this brought would last forever, or at least until he fell asleep. As he drifted off, still singing, he wasn't even aware of what he was saying, he only knew the warm, purple haze that welcomed him.

_Stars will fall upon your shoulders_

_And the planets will collide_

_All the white horses_

_Taken in your stride_

_Tears falling like rain on my shoes_

_You know I never dream of you_

_Restless while I confess_

_This hole you pushed me into_

_Keeping my wings behind me_

_Translucent and clear_

_I'll stop breathing so you won't_

_Keep you blind by my tears_

_Tear your feathers into folds_

_And keep them in a jar_

_Rip my bones to splinters_

_That never leaves a scar_

_Dancing in the moonlight_

_Ripples in the stars_

_Why save someone like me?_

_Condemned to bleed on Mars_

_Rip me from this desperation_

_And then I won't be_

_I can't be your Messiah_

_I will just be me_

_I'll swing from your branches_

_The roots worn and hollow_

_Dancing on the edge _

_The breeze I long to follow_

_Feeling the skin of your hand_

_I'll take it in mine_

_Dancing in the shadows of the trees_

_Bound with silver twine_

_We'll lie in the memory_

_Of insects and flowers_

_Of dancing bears and honey bees_

_And gum-drop showers_

[Author's pre-note:   
this is a poem by me that I thought fit in, that Harry's not necessarily singing, but if you want to perceive it that way it still works.]

**I'm looking for a beta**, because I'm getting tired of reading, and re-reading all of the chapters, which is slowing down the posting process. If you're interested, tell me, also how you want to set it up (what works best for you).

So anyways, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and have a wonderful Kwanza, all! 


	23. Broken Violin

**_But no, that's not the reason._**

**_It's a baby's cry of his mother's treason_**

**_The screaming fear of abandonment_**

**_And this wailing, screaming, whining causes the dead to rise_**

**_And I can't believe my eyes,_**

**_That this concession of_**

**_Beverage containers is chanting in a cacophony of shallow rebellion_**

**_To my doctrine of Annihilation_**

**_That was discussed in my_**

**_Summit_****_ of the Pillow (which is now lost among the stamping feet of the aluminum-alloy anarchists)_**

_-excerpted from __Hotel Hallucinogen by Brian Warner_

**_Broken Violin+__ [blackenedsoul]** +**_**

Hell, in Harry's mind, used to be the Dursley house. A burning, flaming inferno surrounded by pruned bushes, blooming flowers and a well kept neighborhood. This was before he had seen the basement. _The basement. _Such a simple sentence in itself, purely innocent. Harry knew otherwise, at least in this case. 

He had discovered that Tom could be set off easily, and when least expected. He learned quickly to keep his head up and be completely aware of what he was doing all the time, lest he slip up. The smallest thing, brief eye-contact, if he didn't pick up his feet, or if he muttered a syllable without being first asked a question. This would quickly result in the basement. 

The minute your foot touches the first rickety wooden stair you can smell it, the stench of rotting, damp wood, urine, stale sex and the varied tangs garbage. By the time you reach the middle step you can see most of the room. The cement floor barely visible under the mass of stains, and the wooden walls coming off in slivers. Newspapers lined every corner, all of them orange in colour and damp. There was one small window, broken, and lined with so many dead flies you couldn't count. It looked like stained glass, but it was coated in varied colours of grime. There was a shag carpet just under a small desk. It resembled the hair of a Raggedy Anne doll, black and clumped. 

And when you reach that bottom stair you can _feel _it. You can feel the damp wooden walls, the crisp and sticky cement floor and the heavy chill that the room brings. 

Harry had only ever been there once. It was his third night, and he refused to eat dinner. Refused after what had happened the last time. His drink had put him in a trance; he could neither talk nor move. When he saw the immediate look on Tom's face, he knew it was a mistake. He knew it was something he would pay for with his own blood. James had been sitting at the table, and Harry watched him with sad eyes as he was dragged out of the room by his collar by Tom's orders. He was lead into the basement and told to sit and wait until dinner was over. Nott stood at the top of the stairs, his heavy, steel-toed boots making the stairs creak and rattle against the wood wall. Harry shivered slightly in the damp air, and tried not to look at the floor. Pictures of girls, naked and bleeding, boys too. If he just looked ahead, held his breath and thought of things outside the basement, he would be fine. When he could think of no happy thoughts, nor remember a single happy memory, he resorted to counting to one thousand, starting from one, and when he was finished, he started again. 

By the time Tom came into the basement, Harry had counted to one thousand seven times. Tom's stony expression hadn't changed, and the first thing he did was throw Harry to the floor. The stained shag rug burned his cheek, he groaned and tried to stand up, but was forced down. 

"You do not refuse what I offer, boy." Tom hissed. The sudden use of the word "boy" brought back a downpour of memories. Tom's knee pressed into Harry's back, pinning him to the floor; immobilizing him. 

"Let me go!" Harry's back and arms felt like they were going to break under the pressure. 

"No." He grunted, trying to hold the boy down while he struggled. 

"I'll scream. I'll scream and my Dad will hear." Harry warned, using the first thing that came to mind. He knew it wouldn't work.

"He doesn't care, Harry." Tom said in a soft voice, and Harry, filled with too much rage to suppress, managed to reach and arm back and hit Tom on the side of the neck as hard as he could. Tom released the pressure immediately, coughing and grabbing at his neck. Harry made a run for the stairs, knowing Nott wasn't standing there anymore, with the absence of the stairs creaking. He had barely taken three steps when Tom had grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him into the wall. Harry hit it hard, before falling to the ground clutching his shoulder. 

Tom was talking; Harry realized but couldn't make out the words over the cyclone of escape plans swirling around in his head. Harry tried to make eye contact with Tom, trying to bring out that part of his captor that Harry was like his younger self, trying to tell him he was punishing his younger self, but Tom didn't look at him once.

He hit Harry then, with as much strength as he could muster and Harry screamed as loud as he could, over and over. _"HELP ME!" _He screamed and cried as Tom hit him again. Harry screamed for help again, only to be answered with a hard blow to the temple. Harry knew no more.

It had been a bad weekend for everyone, Remus remembered.  The fear for Harry and James' safety and wellbeing increased as they started to receive pictures, pictures of Harry unconscious and bleeding, pictures of James being hit with the Cruciatus curse; screaming on the ground. Dumbledore and Remus were not able to conclude that the pictures were authentic, and could not get a good look at their whereabouts from the little piece of background the picture showed. 

Remus simply refused to let Ron or Hermione into his office, which had become a headquarters for the search. Unfortunately, when the photographs had arrived, Ron and Hermione had been present, and to Remus' horror, saw the horrible pictures of their friend. 

The second Hermione saw those pictures, she knew it was serious. She had slept in the boys' dorm every night since, too afraid to be apart from Ron. He seemed to be the only thing she could cling onto, but he understood, and she knew he was scared himself. She slept in Ron's bed, while Ron slept in Harry's. She could have taken Harry's bed, but the smell of him still lingered on the linen, his breath still on his pillow. 

She lay in Ron's bed, hearing him shift slightly in the bed next to hers. His bed smelled comforting, warm…like family. She could see Ron's feet sticking out off the end of Harry's bed, and smiled before turning over and closing her eyes.

Harry had been returned to his room and locked in promptly. He lay in the middle of the room and sighed. He was surprised when he didn't feel any pain. Nothing. No pain, sadness or hurt. He felt numb. He thought maybe it was because he had been hurt so many times before. Now there was just no pain left to feel. Maybe he just wasn't human anymore. Everyone feels pain…it's a part of being alive. Maybe he was a ghost. 

_Am I dead? I must be… _Harry thought as he turned over, but when he looked at his hands he could see the fleshy skin, the pale peachy tone. He wasn't translucent or clear. 

Everything came suddenly flooding back to him in a tidal wave of emotions that he was breathless for a moment, before breaking down. He missed Sirius…he missed him so much it was burning a hole somewhere deep inside of him. The hole was getting bigger, sucking the hope out of him slowly. And he missed Prof- Remus. He missed waking up to them fighting over eggs and bacon, he missed hearing the stories of when they knew his father but he really missed the feeling that they gave him. The one that told him he was a part of what they had become. A family.

He missed Ron and Hermione. Ron's freckles, Ron's hair, the altogether feeling of Ron's clumsy friendship. Hermione. He missed her brown eyes, her books, and her slight overbite. Oh, what he would give to just wake up to Ron shaking him awake for Transfiguration. Hermione meeting them in the common room for breakfast.  He would rather do a month's work of Potions and Divination homework than to stay here a second longer. 

"I know he's there, Lupin, but I can't just lead in a brigade to rescue him. He knows how closely I work with each and every one of you, so don't you think it will look suspicious on my part?" 

"Now, Severus, I am not asking that we invade, or that you sacrifice yourself." Dumbledore said, settling himself down at his desk and bringing his eyes up to meet the many people crowded into his office. "But I am asking that you try to find a way to make sure that Harry is alive. Try to buy us time to make a plan. I would like him out of there as soon as possible, for who knows what he has seen so far." Dumbledore laid his hands on his desk and stared at them for several seconds before looking up. It was only then that Molly Weasley spoke. 

"I can't believe this. I just _CAN'T _BELIEVE THIS!" She screeched, grabbing a pile of letters from Dumbledore's desk and throwing them about, though most were aimed at the Potions master. "_YOU! So spineless! You'll do _anything_ to save your own neck won't you? Even if it means killing an innocent boy? Every _minute_ he spends there we could be losing him!  And you're doing nothing! _None of you_!" She was in hysterics now, constantly fighting Arthur Weasley's hand off her shoulder. _

She spun around, looking dangerously at Dumbledore, who didn't look shaken in the slightest. 

"And _you._" She growled lowering her eyes.

"Molly-," Arthur tried, but was pushed back by his wife's hands. 

"You know he's suffering! You know this is the last thing he needs after all he's been through and you're not doing a thing to save him! I just don't understand why you can't put your lives on the line to save him! He's saved all of us once, I'm sure, and he could already be dead!" She dissolved into tears and fled from the room, Arthur not far behind her. They could hear his attempts at comfort and her screaming from behind the closed door.

"She's right." Remus said, looking up at the rest, daring them to differ. 

"I shall check on him, make sure he's not rotting in the ground-," Snape began.

"Now hold on!" Professor McGonagall interrupted, her hands flailing in the air as she approached him. 

"Minerva, Severus." Dumbledore said in a sharp voice, but the Transfiguration Professor didn't lose her stern look. "Severus, whatever you can manage is fine. Try to get the story on what has been happening to him, and if any communication is available, please take advantage of it and get him to tell you as much as you can." His eyes scanned the crowd and added, "thank you, that is all."

It was by a grace of god, in Remus' mind, that the Minister of Magic let Sirius out of his cell when he came to visit him. They allowed them to talk in a private, supervised room, with magic wards around the inside, and Sirius had to be magically handcuffed, and secured into a chair. 

Remus didn't deny that he was still really upset with Sirius, and what he had said at the last meeting, but he really needed someone to talk to when Voldemort had released new pictures of Harry, but no news of James at all. The pictures were just as graphic as the last, but Remus was thankful that they at least knew Harry wasn't dead, the pictures showed that much. They could see his chest rising and falling, despite the rather large head wound, and an arm that definitely looked broken. 

He was staring at Sirius's unshaven face with a sad look, he knew and regretted. Sirius had been informed of the pictures, and even seen one, but his face showed no emotion at all. He thought it better to not talk about Harry for a while; they needed a moment to breathe. And he did, before speaking.

"Sirius, what's the most amazing thing you ever heard?" Remus asked in a raspy voice, looking up into hollow eyes and regretted even speaking. Sirius smiled a little, despite the miserable look in his eyes.

"Well, I read one time that when someone dies, the body looses twenty one grams…Some think it's the weight of the soul." He answered.

"Wow…" Was all Remus could manage to say. He paused for a moment before asking another question. "What was the most important thing you've learned in life, thus far?" 

Sirius smiled cheekily. "Never moon a werewolf." 

Remus snorted, but quickly recovered. "No…seriously." 

"Well…" Sirius thought for a moment. "I actually learned this from Harry. 'No one can hurt you more than you can hurt yourself'. We both know Harry was struggling with coping with," he coughed slightly, giving Remus a pointed look, "you-know-what, but the thing that was making it harder for him was the secret itself. _Keeping_ that secret was nearly killing him, and he continued to suffer because he was afraid of our reactions. The human mind works in interesting ways…"

"Yes, it does." Remus said, trailing off slightly as he thought. "Do you think he's still suffering?" 

Sirius' face darkened, as if he was just realizing the topic of conversation had turned to Harry. 

"I-I think he knows now that he doesn't have to hide anything anymore, but I know we don't know the whole story yet." 

"You think he's still keeping things from us?" Remus asked his brow furrowing. "What more could happen to the poor kid?" 

"I don't know, maybe he is." Sirius said, his eyes filling with tears so suddenly, that his voice was but a mere croak when he spoke next. "I just hate to think of Harry…there…with him. He's being beaten! Think of the kind of memories he must have to be reliving!" He put his head in his hands. 

"James is there, he won't let anything happen to him." Remus said. 

"Yeah, well I'm starting to doubt James' abilities as a father. You've seen more pictures than me! Harry was depressed before he was taken, and what the _fuck was James doing? __Nothing. He didn't even bloody __talk to him for __god's sake!" He didn't even realize he had these feelings._

"Do you really feel that way, or are you just angry at James for coming back?" Remus asked quietly, one eyebrow rose as he spoke. 

"What kind of person do you think I am? Do you think I wanted James dead? I think you're looking for the party on the other side of the door!" Sirius said, gesturing to the Aurors who could be seen on the other side of the door window, laughing at something insignificant.   

"I'm not talking about that. I saw the resentment in your eyes when James talked with Harry. I know you still want to be the one he trusts and confides in, but you have to understand that there _will _be other people in his life!" Remus said. He didn't know how Sirius would react to this comment, but he only knew it couldn't be a positive one, this was Sirius. He took every comment to heart and words stuck to him like glue. 

"I'm not jealous. I don't hate James, hell I don't even really resent him; I just want to make sure Harry doesn't get hurt. He's had so many makeshift fathers in his life, and I just don't want to see him get hurt. I don't want him to spill his guts to someone, and then just have them walk away and leave him!" Sirius rubbed his eyes almost violently. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and Sirius looked up at him and smiled slightly, as though reading his mind.

"If I know James at all, I can tell you he's the kind of man who would never even think of doing that." Remus smiled back, and a comfortable silence set in, his hand never leaving his friend's shoulder.

It had been hours since Remus Lupin had arrived home, and promptly threw himself onto the couch. Dumbledore had thankfully understood that he needed time away from Hogwarts for a while, and booked a supply just in time. He needed time away to try to put everything into order and perspective, and find a way to make sense of it. Everything would be so much better if they could just find a way to find James and Harry. Harry could begin to recover, with the help of James Sirius could be free, and everyone would be alright. 

Everything circling and twisting around in his stomach caused him to gag heavily once, before stumbling to his feet and racing towards the bathroom. Even after everything had come up, he lay on the bathroom floor, a toothbrush in his mouth, wondering how much more pathetic one person's life could be.

The moment Harry woke up he knew something was wrong. A clawing, burning pain had settled in his side. He tried to call, for anyone to help, but before he even realized it was useless, he found his voice wouldn't work. All he could manage were gasping, hoarse sounds. He couldn't even move his feet, toes even, though he couldn't lift his head to see. 

He didn't know if a past beating had caused this; he couldn't remember. The last thing he could honestly recall would be Tom sending him to the basement for the night without supper. He remembered sitting in a corner, but nothing after that made sense. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp pain in his back, but all he could do to try to fight the pain was bite his lip and close his eyes as tight as he could. He felt like crying, screaming and dying all at the same time. 

He almost jumped (he couldn't) when the door to his chamber opened, a triangle on the wall and floor growing larger as the stained wood door opened. Harry was breathing harshly, knowing if he were to have another brutal beating, he wouldn't make it out. His chest was impossibly tight with panic and terror.

"Potter?" 

Everything stopped suddenly once he heard a voice. It wasn't harsh, loud or angry. It was quiet and familiar. His eyes turned in the direction of the door, which he had been previously avoiding. A dark shape entered, a dimly illuminated wand in his hand. The figure entered completely, shutting the door behind him, making the room again near pitch black. Yet again, Harry nearly jumped when the man's wand fully lit up.

_Professor Snape? _Harry thought, wanting so badly to actually say it. 

"Potter." Snape said again, adjusting the light of his wand so it showed Harry's face entirely. He swept close, kneeling at his side. Snape's eyes were quickly searching Harry's body for any more injuries than the ones that were obvious. "Do you know how long you've been here?"

Harry managed to shake his head as much as he could, and closed his eyes against the pain in his head.

"Can you stand?" Again, Harry shook his head as lightly as he could. _Stand? I can barely blink. _

"Can you move?" Another shake, the pain in his head increasing. 

"And I assume you can't talk?" Harry knew he couldn't shake his head again. _All I can do is sit here. What's the point of me even being alive? _

"Alright." His hand came up to brush his long hair out of his eyes. "When was the last time you saw your father?" Harry was surprised Snape had even acknowledged his father being alive. When he thought over his professor's words, he gave him the nastiest look he could manage. "Yes, you can't talk, I remember…blink once if you saw him today." Harry kept a straight face. He didn't know how he was going to communicate to Snape that he had no idea what day it was, or how long it had been since he had seen James. He opened his mouth and managed to rasp:  
  
"D-don't-t know…" Before he coughed hard, pain exploding in his side and chest, something wet and warm dripping from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

"Damn Potter." Snape said in a slightly higher voice than what he usually had. Reaching for his robes and wiping his face roughly with his handkerchief. 

Even though the gesture was rough and void of any caring emotion, it was much more than Harry would have ever expected of Snape. 

"I must go. I'll be back." Snape whispered, after the clacking of shoes on a polished floor had brought him out of thought. "Not a word, Potter." Harry gave him another nasty look. _I can't talk you prat! Why don't you understand? Are you that stupid? _

Snape picked himself up and off the floor, opening the door a crack, peeking out for a moment; listening, and then quietly swept out without a backwards glance, closing the door tightly but silently. 

Harry sighed, swallowing back a cough, but only served to produce a bubble to form in the corner of his mouth. It hurt to breathe, to blink, to stare, to live. _Why do I have to go through this? Why do I hurt all the time? What am I doing so wrong to deserve this? Nothing I have done could possibly deserve this suffering! This agony! Let me just DIE. Let it just be over…._

**_Eclipse_**

****

**_Let me decline in the mess of your absence_**

**_Drift away from your misery_**

**_Let me be whole_**

**_I will be inside the one that holds you_**

**_...and then I won't be._**

_I see flashes of memories, my friends and family in pain. Sirius in Azkaban… Remus all alone…Ron and Hermione the day they confronted me. Ron's eyes glistening with tears, Hermione's face already splattered with them, her cheeks tattooed with running mascara. _

_I wish I could cry…or cut… or do something that always makes me feel better. I wish the Deatheaters or Tom would just come in and hit me hard; hard enough that I can drift off to whatever is waiting for me on the other side. Would my Mother be there? Would she be able to accept me and everything I've ever done? Would she love me? Would she be as desperate to see me as I am to see her? Would we be able to live in eternity with no suffering or pain? I hope so. I hope it's like that. _

_Are they going to rescue me? Would Snape be able to get me out of here? I don't think I'll last much longer without food…I'm dizzy all the time. The floor tips sideways and I feel like I should be rolling to one side of the room. Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll wake up and be back home…I'll be in my bedroom, with my blankets and pillow… my windows and walls. I will be able to smell Remus making breakfast, and hear Sirius snoring into the morning. We'll be a family again…_

****

**_Broken Violin_**

****

**_Absinthe air on the sycamore_**

**_Remnants of your looking glass_**

**_Empty eyes, black skies_**

**_These days are meant to last_**

**_Dying months of autumn_**

**_Lying in the morning_**

**_Fistfuls of your hair_**

**_Taken without warning_**

**_Your knuckles in the dirt_**

**_Scratches on your skin_**

**_Your lullaby of screaming_**

**_My broken violin_**

**_Moth-eaten sleeves_**

**_On your_****_ favourite_**_ shirt_****

**_Tangles in your hair_**

**_Like the rips around your skirt_**

**_Your dolly whore figure_**

**_Lies broken on my bed_**

**_So empty you kissed me_**

**_Your lips a wicked red_**

**_I'll staple this smile_**

**_Such a pretty thing to waste_**

**_Harlequined with sequins_**

**_This beauty disgraced_**

**_Hush these screams_**

**_You're falling apart_**

**_Close your eyes_**

**_My_****_ favourite_**_ part..._****

**Author's Note       BIG NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!**

****

_I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, like I have done many times before. Exams and other issues have kept me from my writing for a long time. I sent this to my beta, but I knew if he didn't respond in 24 hours I would have to post my chapter regardless, because I'm going to be leaving to go on a short weekend trip to Toronto, and didn't want you to have to wait any longer, because I was afraid you'd all think I abandoned this story._

_And on to the BIG NEWS. I've started to post art on deviantART.com, including portrait's of Evanescence's Amy Lee, and one Harry Potter one, which was inspired from this story. I don't know how to add links, so I'll just piece the web address together for you….  
  
(Leaving out the www)   
  
xblackenedsoulx.deviantart.com_

_I hope you go and enjoy them. I'm not one for shading…*cowers* but oh well. _

_Please review my art and this story, I beg you. _

_Over and out._

_-blackenedsoul_

_  
  
  
_


	24. It Ain't So Bad

If you let yourself go

And opened your mind

I bet you'd be doing like me,

…and it ain't so bad.

+[Layne Stanly (random%quote)]+

**_//It ain't so Bad//blackenedsoul_**

Such a foolish mistake. He was so desperate to take it back but he couldn't. He had tried to help that pathetic excuse for a wizard…and now he was going to die. He was going to die if he didn't find a way out. If he died, the Potter boy died, and Potter senior himself.

It had all started with that stupid handkerchief. He had been foolish enough to leave it behind, and with his initials, S.S. sewn in a neat cursive, the entire cloth covered in blood. To the entire Deatheater party, it had been obvious that he had tried to help the boy.

And this is how Snape found himself later: bloody, bruised, and hauling James Potter over his shoulder in an almost heroic struggle. They managed to stun Nott, and make it out the back wall, through a tiny hole of wind eroded brick he had found earlier. The small amount of sunshine peaking out from the hole told Snape the two of them were not going to fit through together, and since Potter had insisted his injured leg couldn't hold himself up, Snape was forced to carry him, or rather- drag him.

With all the thrashing and kicking, he decided to first put Potter through the hole…to test it. If it wasn't safe, for any reason, say a large blood thirsty monster on the other side, he could make a clean getaway, never mind Potter. He grabbed him and shoved him rather unceremoniously through the hole. He waited. Nothing but Potter's screams of landing on his injured leg. He grabbed the crumbling brick and hauled himself through, dropping about a foot and a half onto the ground, landing on one foot and one knee. 

"Come on, stand up you idiot!" He hissed at the other man, who was cradling his arm and panting. When he made no movement, Snape grabbed him by the waist and hauled him up again, ignoring Potter's cries of pain and protest. "We have to make it to the other side of the woods before we can apparate." 

"I-I hear w-werewolves are at-attracted to grease. You're a g-goner Snape." James smirked through a grimace, which then turned into a frown. "I can't believe you're leaving Harry. Nothing's changed with you, has it? You're still a coward." 

Snape growled and shuffled James until he was hanging very close to the ground. "You know the plan; I'll drop you if you say that again." Snape's voice seemed slightly choked. 

"I doubt anyone even thought the plan through fully. Harry's going to be dead by the time we make it back." James was silent for a moment before Snape spoke. 

"We can be back to get him within the week." Snape stumbled on a root, nearly dropping James again. It was getting almost too dark to see. 

"I have to go back, rip apart my death certificate, prove Sirius innocent and then gather everyone to save Harry? The trial's not going to end within a week!" 

"It won't be a proper trial; they'll have to release Sirius on lack of evidence on the murder of your wife." Snape could see the light coming from the other side of the tall, winding barked trees. 

"Lack of evidence? But they still think he killed Peter! Even if he wasn't our secret keeper, I can't argue well against the fact that they think he killed thirteen people with one curse." James was extremely frustrated with the entire thing.

"I have documents signed by him after the date of his supposed 'death'. That should be enough evidence, I hope, though they may need more, in which case, the trial could be longer." 

James groaned as the sunlight hit his eyes suddenly, and they took a few more steps before apparating.

_CRASH_

It turned out, at the time of making the Portkey, Remus had had a sense of humor, and the two of them came crashing down onto the broom shed. They both rolled off the angled roof, falling about seven feet to the soft, crunchy grass. James groaned, rolling onto his back and sat up, examining his leg. 

"Potter, move it." Snap growled, picking himself off the ground and began to walk.

"We're at Hogwarts! What's the big deal now?" James said, gasping not in pain, but in shock, as he saw how swollen his shin was. 

"We can't let any of the students see you! You're still dead to everyone, and you're wasting time, time you could be using to put the plan into order." 

"I hate the plan." James sniffed indignantly, standing on one leg, and limping over to where Snape stood.

Snape nearly grinned- _nearly. _Everyone seemed to forget the James Potter was twenty-years-old. Not thirty three, as Snape himself was. He was still arrogant, moody and insufferable with the remnants of his teenage years. How was this man supposed to raise a fifteen-year-old, if he was just barely an adult himself?

"Move." He growled, forcing himself to think of something else, force himself to not care…caring makes you vulnerable, after all.

"AH!" 

"Oh, Mr. Potter, come off it, it can't hurt that much!" Madam Pomfrey impatiently huffed, picking his hair out of a small gash on his forehead. 

"There's dirt and bacteria in it! It's infected; it hurts!" James exclaimed, sucking in his breath as Madam Pomfrey began picking out small rocks with tweezers. 

Remus Lupin laughed, a small weight lifted from his shoulders knowing James was alright. James had refused to talk about Harry for the time, he just really wanted to get ahead and free Sirius. They had set up a meeting with the Minister later that afternoon, so James would have to be patient for a while. They all had to hold on to the hope that Harry would be alright, that he was strong enough. 

Harry could only remember bits of colour, colour from behind his eyes swirling around him in a cyclone of spectrums and rainbows. He could remember whispers, but never full voices. He could remember scenes, but he didn't think he ever opened his eyes. He had tried to count the seconds since Snape visited him. He said he would come back, but he never did. He left him alone to the darkness, that circled closer with each passing day, and dying morning. He hadn't been tortured, or even brought to Tom. He remembered Deatheaters peaking in, he could still hear their voices, but he was never brought out. Everything was like a blur, melting together until he couldn't tell seconds from minutes, and minutes from hours and days. 

Maybe they just came in to make sure he was alive, or maybe they were waiting until he had healed enough to be brought back to Tom. He sure felt a lot better now than he had when Snape had visited. He could move his legs about an inch, but it still hurt to make any sort of noise with his throat. Not that he tried often, he was scared they would bring him to Tom, and he would hurt him again. No, he was happy in the blissful darkness. Glowing in the hope that he would get to leave soon, that Sirius would come and take him home and he could live forever in the happiness his arms brought. 

"Up, Potter." A stony voice called, hard and cold, bringing him out of his reverie, making him come down from floating above the pain. _I can't stand up! Please don't take me to Tom, don't make me go!_

He felt the panic rising, but he could do nothing to protect himself. He couldn't crawl into a corner and put up his arms, nor could he curl up into a ball and cry. He was involuntarily stoic in everything.

The arms to the stony voice grabbed his arm, thankfully his almost uninjured one. This didn't successfully pull him onto his feet, but it brought him into an excruciating sitting position, and all he could do was close his eyes tight and let the tears leak out. He then proceeded to grab him around the waist and haul him up.

 With a heavy case of vertigo, Harry didn't know what transpired until later that evening. He could tell by the disturbed atmosphere that he wasn't in his cell anymore, and that he wasn't the only one there. He could hear heavy breathing that sounded different from his own. It sounded like a sigh with every breath. Harry tentatively opened his eyes and all he could see was grey cobblestone floor. He couldn't see the other man, so he assumed he must be on the other side of him. That's why he didn't lift his head to look about the room. He lay silently until he felt a hand on his shoulder. His breathing became hard, but he couldn't hear the man this time. 

"Keep still; you don't want _him _coming in here. If he knows you're awake he'll come." Harry froze, he recognized that voice.  It was the same voice that had brought him here in the first place. The same voice that betrayed his parents. Wormtail, Pettigrew, Peter, it was all the same voice. So many different sides to one man but it all started with that voice. 

"Get away from me." Harry whispered. He didn't even know if Pettigrew could understand what he was saying. It was as if he were trying to speak a new language. "Leave me be." 

Footfalls rang through the near silence, sharp, quick footsteps, as if they were in a hurry. They passed by the door of their locked room, pausing for a moment. Pettigrew seized Harry with his arm, his limb covering both Harry's mouth and nose. He could make no noise. They stood like this for a few seconds, Harry grasping onto Pettigrew's arm, scratching and pulling, desperately trying to breathe. When the footsteps began again, this time becoming more and more quiet until they were a mere echo in the distance. Pettigrew let go, but still grasped Harry's shoulder tightly.

"Be silent now, sleep." Harry hated the bittersweet tang to his words, it stung and stayed with him, but he couldn't speak, his vocal chords had failed him again. If he had been able to speak, he was sure he would have started yelling, screaming anything that would get Pettigrew into trouble with Tom, even if it meant trouble for him as well.

James grabbed his winter cloak and swung it around, pulling his arms through. It was not yet winter but the chill in the wind, and the way his nerves made his skin prickle was going to make him sick. It was especially the nervousness. The overriding fear for Harry, the compassion and worry for Sirius and Remus. It was eating away at him, but he knew, it would be over soon. 

A knock on the door announced Remus's arrival, and he entered the room without waiting for James to open it. His graying brown hair was wispy with autumn wind, and his face showed excitement rather than fear. 

"Sorry James, but I've got to do your face." Remus said, pulling out his wand. He had been allowed to wander the hallways if he was disguised with Remus's wand. Every time, he would amuse himself greatly with trying new faces. He loved the noses the best, it seemed, and every time couldn't resist dotting it with liver spots or warts. 

"Please, not hideous this time." James pleaded. "I beg you." 

"Why, James, are the children teasing you? Should I talk to them about teasing the unfortunate?" Remus snickered, making James' eyebrows thicker. 

"I'm not unfortunate!" James exclaimed, cringing at the odd feeling of his hair growing a hundred times faster than it should. 

"You _were _dead. If that's not unfortunate status then what is?" Remus said, adding a few black hairs to James's chin. "A Van Dyke maybe?" 

"No, that'll really get the kids going. Its fine, I'm sure I already look like Snape, or perhaps Malfoy?" James asked. 

"Actually, you're looking rather feminine." Remus laughed. "Mind you, you also look like a pit-bull, so it's not attractive. It's more like Snape's Mum." 

There was a pause, James didn't laugh. The sinking feeling in his stomach overpowered that greatly, and he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming or crying or burning things. His honey eyes lifted to Remus', and they shared a worried glance before Remus took a deep breath. 

"You ready for this?" He asked in a small voice, like his younger self. Just like the meek little boy he had met so many years ago. It had taken a great many months to bring him out of his shell and actually smile. 

"I guess I have to be." James said, putting on a brave face and followed Remus out of the room, out of the castle and to the apparation point, where they would then go to the ministry. That would be where everything would hopefully fall into place- for better or for worse. 

Harry knew the Deatheaters had been furious about something. When Nott burst into his cell with Pettigrew, he looked flushed with panic and his eyes were wide with fright. Harry noticed that his robes were smeared with dust and soot, and when he spoke it was like he had swallowed marbles.

"Potter's gone, Snape too. The lying son-of-a-bitch took off." Nott stumbled into the room further, nearly tripping over his own foot. 

"I knew this was going to happen! I knew he was a lying cheat from the first moment I met him in school. You all didn't believe me, well look what's happened now!" Pettigrew spat, walking past Harry to where Nott stood. Nott stood his ground and grabbed Pettigrew by the collar of his black robes.

"Look, you can blame everyone all you want, but _he's _pissed. Really steaming mad this time, he's going to kill one of us, whoever he thinks knew about it, so you best keep your mouth shut." Nott growled, leaning back to peer through the doorway. Once he saw it was clear, turned back, and his gaze fell upon Harry. "What about him?" 

"He's not going anywhere. Not such a tough guy now eh?" Pettigrew chuckled, kicking Harry in the back, not too hard, but hard enough to make Harry curl up as tight as he could, despite the pain. He whimpered slightly, turning his face to the ground. He could hear Nott laughing half-heartedly, as though he had left his sense of humor in another place, far, far away from here. At some point, Nott must have left, because Harry only recognized two patterns of breathing, and could only see one shadow in the light of the kerosene lamp. 

Ron lifted his head and blinked against the sudden rush of sunlight pressing into his tired eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep well, neither had Hermione, he knew. They hadn't talked much, only occasionally about homework, or off topic gibberish at meals. Harry's kidnapping affected them greatly. For Ron, it seemed to have further shattered his world, burned the Eden he was used to. His friend could be dead, could be crying, could be laughing, he didn't know. He never knew. It was Christmas break already, meaning Harry had been gone for nearly a month now, a month on the twenty-seventh. He wasn't looking foreword to it, not even close. 

Sirius was free, it was official. On December sixteenth, Sirius Black was cleared of all charges and given an unknown (to Ron at least) sum of money for his time in Azkaban. Ron had been upset he wasn't allowed to attend the trial, but it was secret and only ministry members and selected people Sirius knew or was affiliated with. Ron was extremely frustrated with not being told anything, especially about the plan involving Harry's rescue. Mrs. Weasley had already made sure none of her children, bar Bill and Charlie who had come home for Christmas, knew about the plans. Ron was getting tired of them fooling around, poking around in whatever they did, and delaying time they could be spending getting Harry away from whatever mess he was in. 

Hermione was staying for Christmas, but she was so far the only full-holiday guest. Remus and Sirius would drop by; they didn't like to spend too much time alone. Fred and George were their usual selves, albeit a little half hearted in their pranks. So far, there had been no pranks to borderline ruin Christmas, but there had been a few little gags, but nothing of their usual standard of greatness. 

Ron slipped out of bed and hopped clumsily into his brown slippers, burrowing his toes deep, and padding out of his room and into the bathroom. He loved holidays for several reasons, but the one he particularly favoured was that he didn't have to brush his teeth three times a day, none if he didn't want to, and he didn't have to brush his hair as much. Hygiene useless if you want to relax. He stepped into the shower and turned the water knobs back and forth, fiddling with the temperature. After a mildly hot shower, he toweled off his sopping pile of hair and headed down to the kitchen, tripping in his too-big slippers.

He was surprised to find Sirius and Remus in the kitchen this early. They would normally come around seven, to sit and talk by the fire with the adults. 

"Hello, Ron." Remus greeted him warmly. Sirius hunched over in his chair, mumbling a hello. Remus elbowed him. "Ah, you'll have to excuse him, Ron. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." 

"That's OK, how are you, Remus?" Ron always found talking to them a little uneasy and awkward since Harry was gone, but tried to be polite and kind to them where he could. They were going through a rough time, just like everyone else. 

"We're alright. Do you mind if we could help ourselves to a muffin, Molly? Harry usually made breakfast, and well you know…" Remus trailed off. Mrs. Weasley perked up from the other side of the room.

"Oh dear, a muffin? Certainly not! I'll make you some eggs and toast. Ron, get the bread from the bread box, will you?" She scampered over to the cupboard, fetched the butter and set it on the oak counter. 

Ron grabbed the bread and set it down, where his mother began buttering them quickly. "Jam?" She asked, but both men shook their heads. She put them in the oven to toast, and washed her hands off in the sink. "Ron? Why don't you go outside with Hermione and Ginny? Poor Ginny's dying to play a game of Quidditch, despite the snow, and Hermione won't get on a broom to save her life." 

Ron looked outside and saw Ginny sulking while Hermione sat at the outside table with her legs crossed reading. He didn't say another word to anyone in the kitchen and slid open the door and stepped outside before Mrs. Weasley could scold him until he put on a jacket. 

Later that evening, James, Sirius and Remus were seated in the family room, anxiously waiting a call from Dumbledore. Once Dumbledore came through the fireplace and gave the 'OK', they would meet up with Snape and then could proceed to rescue Harry. They didn't even know if this plan would work, using the back way. Snape had told them it used to be a hospital, and the hole that he and James escaped from had probably been filled in, but he knew of another one. In the crematorium, a wall's bricks were crumbling with decay and water damage. Snape hadn't drawn out a map, or explored that area, so they didn't know where that would take them.

There had been no new pictures, no threatening letters, nothing. This was probably what scared them the most; fear of the unknown. Fear that Harry might not be there, that they would have moved on and left the old hospital. Fear that Harry might be dead, that he died alone not knowing that there were three men breaking apart, dying slowly themselves hoping he would be OK. Was he ever alright in the first place? 

"It's time." Dumbledore's voice broke the silence and their heads sprang up to meet the tired face of Albus Dumbledore. He smiled sadly at them and stood back so all three could climb through the fireplace. 

They stumbled as they came through, James falling unceremoniously onto the rug, nearly pulled Sirius down with him. Sirius's hand pulled him back to his feet and they turned to face Dumbledore and Snape, who was waiting impatiently for them in the headmaster's office.

"We must move quickly, we don't know how long they will remain there." Snape said, fishing something out of his cloak pocket.

"Where is _there _exactly?" James asked, scrunching up his nose, not used to being out and it not being a fake one applied by magic. He hadn't been in any major wizarding areas, and wasn't going to be tonight. It hadn't yet been released in the papers who the 'surprise witness' was who set Sirius Black free, but the Ministry was going to give a statement when they were given permission from James himself. 

"It's an abandoned hospital, as I told you before, hasn't been used since the early forties. It's absolutely ridden with decay and crumbling from the foundation. It's found in the outskirts of Dunkerque, France. We should be leaving now." He said, spying the clock upon Dumbledore's desk.

"Alright." Remus said, following Snape to the door, Sirius and James in tow. "Dumbledore, a pleasure, as always." He added with a nod and a smile, Dumbledore sat down at his desk and watched them go with unreadable eyes.

Once out of the office, and down into the hallways of Hogwarts, they swept quietly towards the entrance hall.

"Snape-_Severus_, how…how was Harry when you saw him?" Sirius asked, putting his hands in his pockets and slumped over as he walked. 

"Black, keep your mouth shut, we don't want the students to see." Snape growled as they turned a corner, and could see the large wooden doors.

"But was he OK? Was he coherent at all to-,"

"_I said shut that hole in your face, Black._" Snape hissed, and they pushed open the doors and stepped out into the crisp winter night. The wind was blowing the snow around is large cyclones, but it wasn't overly cold. Their footsteps, it seemed, would fill back in the moment their shoes left the snow because of the wind. That didn't slow down their journey; they kept a steady pace, and were at the apparation point quickly. 

"How close will the wards allow us to go?" Remus asked, folding his arms to keep a little warmer.

"Voldemort could have taken the wards down, then we'll be able to get right next to the building, but if he still has them it will be in the wood out behind the crematorium. It's not too far either way." Snape answered, the cold amazingly not showing in his face, not that Sirius, James or Remus could imagine Snape with a cold-blush. 

"Alright, just try to get as close as you can." Remus said, closing his eyes and getting ready to apparate. Four loud '_pop_'s burst into the quiet night.

The next time Remus opened his eyes it was dark, very dark. He could only see the outline of two other figures in his range of vision.

"Everyone there?" Sirius, Remus thought, recognizing the voice's loud and obnoxious qualities, like it could be at times. He saw Sirius's hands fly about everywhere. "Where is everyone?"

"We're here. _James! Where's James?_" Remus asked in a panic. He could recognize everyone else in the darkness but James's figure couldn't be seen. 

"James! James we're here!" Sirius called quietly. "_Lumos._" Sirius's wand lit at the tip, and Snape and Remus followed suit. They had a pretty good light, but they couldn't see far ahead of them. 

"James? James, Answer me!" Remus called. They heard a rustling in the bushes and Snape's wand immediately went out, as if he were hiding. If that noise came from Deatheaters, he didn't want to be seen. 

"I'm here! I'm fine!" A fourth light appeared, and the ghostly face of James appeared. It was like at a campfire, when people would tell ghost stories; his wand was right underneath his chin, illuminating the high points of his face. 

"Merlin, what were you doing?" Snape shot. 

"I haven't apparated in a while; I was a bit down the forest, not too far off." James answered, and Snape re-lit his wand. 

"Can you see in?" Remus asked, as Sirius climbed into the narrow opening of the crematorium wall. "Do you see anything?" 

"Nothing much, give me my wand back." James handed Sirius his wand and Sirius lit the tip, blinking at the sudden light. "There's no one here, come on." Sirius took Remus's hand and pulled him through easily. The full moons made him very thin and slender. Next came James and Snape, the latter refusing to be helped through the gap.

"Where do we go?" Sirius asked. Sirius said, looking around the room at the teal tiles on the room, the blackened walls around the inferno, and the empty trays that lay inside.

"There's only one door, Black." Snape said, groaning quietly. They stood in the doorway, and James peaked around the corner before telling the others to follow him into the hallway. The hallway walls were a sickly yellow and rotting. They crept down the corridor, gurneys were tipped over and lying all down the hallway, ripped posters marked: **_Alerte de Sante_**. They walked over the scattered needles and papers, and saw a light coming from a room down the hall. They crept down and positioned themselves at the doorway so they could listen in. Smokey fumes leaked from the room and the air was very tense and suffocating.

"Did you bring the boy?" A voice sounded. 

"Yes, Master, he's not awake, I couldn't rouse him." Another voice, trembling and squeaking. Peter. Sirius growled under his breath. 

"Bring him to me; he shall be awake for this." They heard ruffling, followed by a sharp cry of pain. 

Sirius couldn't help but look around the corner. His eyes narrowed in anger. Harry was lying flat on his stomach, and someone had kicked him. Someone…youthful, around what James looked like. He knew it was Voldemort, he knew by the way the Deatheaters bowed, remained in a circle around him. He had rejuvenated himself. When James told him, he hadn't believed it, but this, he couldn't deny was real.

"This is what you've become, Potter. A bloody mess with no one to save you, no one to save you from certain death, fate isn't on your side, Potter." 

Sirius let this be the moment where he would give himself away. "But I am." 

_"But I am." _That's the last thing Harry could remember before it all turned to black. 

_I can see so many shapes and colours, I don't know why they're here, or where they come from, but rich shades of red and gold are dancing and swirling around me. They're pretty, all the colours. I don't mind if they stay a while, join me while I sleep. They remind me of home, of my bedroom and Sirius's eyes, Remus's smile. Ron's hair, Hermione's aura. It's all here beside me, and suddenly, I don't feel so scared, I don't feel like death is pressing and looming in on me, closing in around my eyes. No, this is who I am, this is Harry; all these colours. This is me, and it ain't so bad. _

**Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,**

**Thus unlamented let me die;**

**Steal from the world, and not a stone**

**Tell me where I lie.**

**-Alexander Pope**

**_I apologize immensely for the lateness. Just so you know, I have my life officially in order, and I can finally do something I want without it taking weeks and seeming like a nuisance. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, especially at the end. Everything that wasn't explained (trial, formation of the plan and such) will be explained in further detail. This story probably has about 4-8 more chapters, depending on how I dream up things before the ending, which I have all planned out. _**

****

**Wanna See a Pic of Moi? **

_Sorry, have to write it out: deviantart(dot)com/view/6023694_

**My friend took it at school near the graveyard.**

**Anyways, please pretty please review. :-) If not about the story, wish me a happy 15th birthday on Friday! (because you love me).**


	25. Faultline

Did you think I would abandon you?

I'm dreadfully sorry for being MIA for months, but it couldn't be helped. Can you forgive me and get back to reviewing? gets down on hands and knees 

After several [inspiring letters] death threats ("your ass will be grass- I'm S.S.M") and endearing new phrases (post-haste! :P CrAyOnS tAsTe LiKe PuRpLe) later, blackenedsoul is still alive and her crazy self.

No, the story isn't over, it's over when I say it's over and by pure chance, that isn't now. I say about 3 chapters left, but it just depends on how I write it. I plan things out, but tend to come up with newer ideas as I'm going, which may extend the story. I'm already thinking up my next projects, many there will be, lads and lasses. During that time I plan to start a slash story, as I have been trying to do for ages, with of course, lots of angst.  Think we could try to make it to 1000 reviews by then? If all of you could participate, that'd just be dandy.

also, i apologize for the shit-tastic-ness of this chapter, as I have absolutely no spell check.

casts a spell and makes everyone review 

_We really should have thought this through..._ James thought, as he sat hog-tied and bound beside Sirius Remus and Snape. Sirius was looking at Harry's crumpled form desperately, Remus was trying to inch his way toward Pettigrew's dagger and Snape was sitting silently, but without his usual aura. He had one of tension and anxiousness James wasn't used to in all the years in school he had known him. James, himself, was watching Voldemort's crimson eyes boring into his own. This had been the last thing he had seen that night fourteen years ago, the last thing he had seen before life was taken from him much too soon. This must have been the last thing Lily had seen as well. Or maybe she had turned her head from his face to smell her son's hair one last time...these are things he'd never know.

Voldemort's eyes lit up for a second, like a child on Christmas morning. The look was replaced by a bitter smirk as he advanced on Harry once more.

"This is your son, James! This bloody pile of flesh is all you have left and you don't even care!" Voldemort said, disbelievingly. "I would have thought differently in the perfect, little, Potter family, wouldn't you, Wormtail?"

"Yes, master." Wormtail squeaked, backing away from Remus, who was still fighting his bonds to get at him.

"Wake up, Harry." Voldemort whispered, scratching his long fingernails across Harry's cheek. Harry didn't stir when the beetle wing nails left a long mark on his face. _"Enervate." _Voldemort said, the spell forcing Harry's bloodshot eyes open.

Sirius looked on in horror, remembering his promise to Harry_ "I promise to take care of you." _That's exactly what he remembered saying when he was trying desperately to get Harry to forgive him. That's the night he hurt him, and he promised, _promised, _never again.

_"Please...please..._leave him out of this..." Sirius begged, abandoning his proud mind; Harry was his number one priority, always.

"Your parents begged too, Black, always at me feet." Voldemort sneered, never letting go of his tight hold of Harry.

"I'm not my parents. I never was and I never will be." Sirius' eyes lingered on Voldemort for not a second before they were staring back into Harry's unfocused ones. It looked like he was having trouble breathing and he was shaking badly. Sirius tried to smile in a way that would tell Harry everything would be fine, but the pain in his eyes stopped him from making anything but a grimace of despair.

Fawkes ruffled his feathers against the beginnings of the winter air as he swooped down to his resting place on the side of the closest tower. His talons made contact with the cold window pane and he pecked lightly on the window, which was slightly fogged due to the heat inside. Muffled footfalls and mutters could be heard through the window before it was opened magically.

"Back already Fawkes?" Dumbledore said once Fawkes had hopped through the open window and onto the corner of his master's desk. "I have another job for you."

Fawkes cooed in response and clicked his talons on the wooden desk.

"I feared that something would go wrong, and the chances are it would." Dumbledore sighed, and picked up several addressed letters from his desk and handed them to his phoenix. "I want you to take these to Alastor Moody, Arthur. Bill and Charlie Weasley and Amos Diggory. The Weasley's should all be at home for the holidays. Come back when you're finished, please, Fawkes, and hurry."

Fawkes allowed Dumbledore to tie the letters to his right leg. The old man's crow's feet deepened as he stood up and thought for a few fleeting seconds. He smiled, "Godspeed, Fawkes."

 Sirius lifted his eyes from Harry's and looked up at Voldemort's once again. Voldemort dropped Harry from his grasp, who landed on the ground with a grunt.

"Wormtail, untie the Werewolf." Voldemort said quickly. Wormtail squeaked, grabbing his wand and turning it on Remus. Wormtail pulled Remus to the middle of the room, so he couldn't untie any of the others. Sirius looked at Remus with a pained expression, dread overtaking him about what might happen to Remus.

Remus's face hardened as he stood, as if accepting his fate before it came. Wormtail was watching him carefully, his wand trained between the werewolf's eyes. Remus didn't move, just lifted his head and stared into Wormtail's eyes with something between disgust and pity.

"Come here, werewolf." Voldemort said, beckoning him with a crooked, bony finger. Even with his younger appearance, his presence was haunting and intimidating, though Remus tried to hide it.

Remus stood before Voldemort silently. It wasn't a minute before Voldemort raised his wand and banished him into the wall with a blue streak of light. Remus hit the stone hard, and dropped to the ground wheezing.

"Stand up."

Remus obeyed and stood once again, though not moving any closer to Voldemort. Once he had gotten himself back on his feet, he had just enough time to raise his head and see another spell coming at him.

"Stop!" James yelled, fighting his bonds even harder.

Remus had been thrown to the opposite corner of the room and landed on a large vase, shattering it and sending several shards into his back and hands.

"STOP!" James shouted again. "Take me!"

Voldemort ignored all being said and raised his wand once more, pointing it to Remus, who remained on the ground. _"Crucio."_

Remus flipped over with the force of the spell and lay on his back howling and screaming in pain. His bloody hands clawed at the air, trying to do something to make it stop.

"STOP IT!" Sirius yelled, looking to James and Snape for help. He was met with James' angry, desperate face, and absolutely nothing from Snape; he was looking at his feet blankly, and it was as if he didn't hear the screams at all.

The curse was lifted and Remus didn't move beyond the odd twitch of aftershock.

Sirius glanced to Harry, who's eyes were open, and staring in Remus' direction. It looked like it required a great deal of effort for him to stay awake, but he wouldn't shut his eyes through Remus' torture, it seemed.

Voldemort took his eyes away from Remus and turned on Sirius, James and Snape. He walked toward them, moving Harry out of the way with his foot. Sirius flinched at Harry's grunt of pain.

"How does it feel, boys, to know you're going to die, that these are your last moments you'll ever have, the last sights you'll ever see, the last words you'll ever speak? Does it hurt you, James, to live with the secret love for your son that he'll never know you have? Or is it that you're afraid because you feel nothing?"

James said nothing.

With a sudden, unexpected movement, Voldemort turned back and kicked Harry sharply in the stomach. Harry cried out sharply, let out a sob and fell silent. He was lying on his side now, the puddle of blood next to his mouth growing increasingly larger. The Dark Lord turned back to the men with fierce eyes and faced Sirius.

"This is the boy you promised to protect, is it not? Is this not your bleeding godson lying on the floor of my chamber?" Voldemort sneered, sounding falsely ignorant. When Sirius said nothing, he screamed, "Answer me!"

"Yes." Sirius croaked, his throat feeling tight and sore.

Voldemort seemed to accept this answer and turned to Snape, his eyes glinting maliciously.

"I still, cannot comprehend why you betrayed me, Severus." Voldemort's voice was low. "When you were lost, you found me. Didn't I train you well?"

Snape's eyes were hard and stony. He didn't answer.

The air was heavy, hot and cold at the same time, giving an unpleasant shiver. Sirius held his breath as Voldemort turned his wand on Remus again, sending a blinding, yellow stream of light straight at him. It hit him on the outer part of his right shoulder, sending him to his knees gasping in pain, holding his wound tightly. Dark, red blood ran over his fingers and down his arm.

Voldemort raised his wand again.

Sirius was near tears. "Don't look, Harry!"

Harry tried his best to shut his eyes, not wanting to see another person die. Especially not someone he called a parent. Not Remus. He didn't want another bad memory, not another person screaming when Dementors came. He didn't want to watch, but the look in Remus' eyes was just too heartbreaking to look away.

"Harry, please, listen to me...close your eyes, think about something else, OK? I love you, Harry." Remus said.

To Harry, this was an impossible task. If he let his mind wander, the sharp pain everywhere in his body would surely bring him back to the present.

Despite himself, he closed his eyes. He squeezed them tighter and tighter with every scream. He stared into the darkness of his closed eyes, fighting the urge to scream. He wished he could jump up and defend Remus, save him, protect him just like the werewolf had done for him, but he couldn't move. All he could manage was to bend his right arm at the elbow, and a weak movement of his legs. He knew he couldn't stand up, no matter how much he wanted to.

"That's _enough._" Harry's eyes snapped open. He searched as far around as he could, but since he couldn't move his head, his line of vision was limited. He let out a long breath. _Dumbledore's here...everything's going to be okay...we're going to go home..._

He heard several footsteps as more people entered.

"Here to save the day, Dumbledore?" Harry heard Voldemort's sneer, and used what little strength in his legs to turn himself a little, so he could see what was going on. Without his glasses, the figures were blurry, and some of the men were completely unrecognizable.

Harry blinked, wishing he wasn't cursed with his father's poor eyesight. From what he could make out, Dumbledore was facing Voldemort with at least fifteen others behind him. Harry saw Dumbledore raise his hand and gave it a wave. The ropes binding Sirius, Snape and his father fell limply too the floor, and they stood up quickly.

Sirius made a dash for Harry, flinging himself onto the ground next to him.  Snape  crossed the room to join Dumbledore, even with the absence of his wand, and James went to Remus's fallen form.

Harry heard Sirius's hard, fast breathing next to him, but couldn't see the worry in his eyes.

"Hang on, Harry." Sirius whispered. "I'm going to try to get you out of here, but I can't until it's safe." His eyes darted to Wormtail, who's back pocket still held the foursome's wands. His eyes then flickered to Remus and James. Remus, being in nearly constantly weak health, was in poor shape as well.

"Listen, Harry, when this is all over, we'll get away for a bit, OK? We all need a break...when you're out of school we'll go wherever you want. We can go flying if you want." Sirius said, hoping just to keep Harry with him. Hoping that Harry would just hold on until they could escape. "Would you like that?"

"...Mm..." Harry said as his eyes closed comfortably.

"Stay with me, Harry. Open your eyes." Sirius whispered.

Harry's eyes blinked open. "I'm just resting them..." He said.

"Keep them open for me, OK, kid?" Sirius pleaded. Harry nodded, keeping his eyes half open. Sirius' eyes flickered back to Dumbledore and Voldemort. He could faintly hear them speaking.

"Tom, we both know this has to end here." Dumbledore said. "Let us leave, you know the battle will not commence here."

"Master, Master, you are weak..." Wormtail piped quietly, peeking out from behind his lord.

"_Silence_."  Voldemort hissed. "The end is near, Dumbledore, you can't hide the boy forever." Tom knew his strength had yet to fully return, but was reluctant to leave without a fight.

"I know, Tom." Dumbledore said. "Leave here." His eyes were cold and flashing.

Sirius's hear swelled with happiness when he saw Voldemort snarl and turn on his heel, giving a quick glance to his Deatheaters before he disapparated, his army left not long after.

"They're gone, Harry." Sirius said, giving Harry a warm smile and turning to see Dumbledore quickly approaching.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked.

"He's in bad shape, Albus, we have to leave now. Remus and Harry need to see Poppy immediately." Sirius said, his voice becoming more urgent as he watched Harry's eyes close.

James came up then, too, Remus floating behind him. The werewolf's face was pale and papery, dried blood dotting the corners of his mouth and nose.

"Do you have the emergency portkey?" James asked.

Dumbledore's hand disappeared into the pocket of his robe, and came back out, producing a long piece of rope. His hand hovered over it, and his eyes floated closed.

"_Portus__._" He said quietly, and the rope turned red, then white, as if it were boiling hot. When the rope went back to brown, he held it out. "Quickly, now." They each held a different part of the rope tightly, James helping Remus and Sirius helping Harry to grasp it as well. "Three, two, one..."

Sirius felt a tug behind his navel, as if someone had lassoed him and was pulling him hard. He felt himself being pulled, and his feet hitting the ground of Hogwarts long before he was ready. He stumbled, but kept his footing, determined not to cause the boy in his arms and further injury. It would have been easier to levitate him, but Sirius felt safer knowing he was holding him, and nothing could hurt him.

"Sirius, quickly." A gruff man said, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him.

"Moody?" Sirius asked, trying to get a look at the man, while walking quickly along side of him.

"Yes, Dumbledore owled me to let me know what was going on. I arrived with Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory." Moody said, pulling Sirius sharply around a corner. Sirius adjusted Harry in his arms, making sure to be gentle.

"Amos Diggory? Harry mentioned that the man didn't like him very much...you'd think that would only get worse what with Harry being there when his son died." Sirius cursed as he shifted his elbow too much, accidently jabbing Harry in the side. Harry cried out softly, but didn't open his eyes.

"Amos has signed a contract with Dumbledore. He's joining our army out of memory of his son." Moody said, swinging in front of Sirius to open the door to the hospital wing for him. Sirius carried Harry inside and set him on the bed to the right of the door. He looked around the room wildly, searching for the matron.

"Madame-er...Poppy!" Sirius called, banging loudly on the adjacent door to her chamber. He pressed his ear up against the door. He heard a cough, some grumbling and then footsteps. The door swung open, and Sirius nearly fell into the matron. She appeared in the doorway, clad in her dressing down and her hair in curlers. She looked wildly at Sirius, then Moody before her eyes fell on Harry.

"Not this boy again!" She screeched, her arms flailing about as she came up beside him. "At least he's back. Is anyone else injured? Any fatalities?"

"No, Remus is pretty banged up...he'll be here soon, James is bringing him." He was glad that Mme. Pomfrey and Moody were aware of James being alive, as he was too tired for the lengthy explanation.

"Oh my!" Poppy exclaimed as she peeled back the tattered Hogwarts robes from Harry's chest. The material was sticking to his skin with dried and new blood, acting like glue. The black robes were hard in some places where the blood was dry, making a sickening crunching sound as it was peeled back. His chest was a bloody mess, full of welts and lacerations, some tissue and muscle showing inside the cuts. Moody's magical eye twitched in it's socket.

"He's got a good four broken ribs, from what I can see, Poppy." Moody said, "There's blood everywhere inside

there...it doesn't look good."

"Is he going to be alright? Why is he breathing like that? That cut on his neck looks deep...Is he in any pain?" Sirius asked wildly, starting to panic.

"Sirius, maybe it would be best if you went to find Mr. Lupin..." Poppy suggested, pushing Sirius out of the way to feel her way around Harry's chest.

"What? I'm not leaving him! He's my-,"

"Godson, yes, but you're only a distraction, please, Sirius, go find Remus Lupin and bring him back here." Poppy insisted, pushing him unceremoniously out the door.

"Bugger." Sirius said angrily, kicking a stone pillar. He began to walk back to the entrance hall, hoping that the students wouldn't see him. He winced at the pain in his foot, but kept walking.

As he turned a corner in the corridor, he was surprised to see James holding up a limping Remus, both making their way slowly down the hall.

"Remus? You're OK?" Sirius came to his side and helped James half carry the werewolf.

"I don't know about that..." Remus gasped, nodding his head at the open wound on his shoulder. Sirius made to touch it, but Remus slapped his hand away.

"What took you so long?" Sirius asked.

"We had just gotten back, and after you ran off with Harry, Remus started coming around, so Dumbledore insisted we stay to talk," James said, readjusting Remus's arm across his shoulders.

"About?"

"Harry." James answered.

"Dumbledore thinks it's best if Harry gets away from Hogwarts for awhile...extend his Christmas hols a little. He needs time away, and so do we." Remus said, grunting in pain as he tripped a little. "Harry's mentally exhausted, physically too, I suppose. He's been through so much this year that He needs time to breathe, just try to accept what has happened. Dumbledore's already planned a substitute teacher for my classes."

"How long are we talking about?" Sirius asked.

"As long as Harry needs. It'll be a good time to...get to know me a little..." James said, bowing his head slightly.

Sirius unconsciously clenched his teeth.

Remus was admitted into Poppy's care beside Harry, and the wait began.  Poppy healed Remus quite quickly and sentenced him to a week's worth of bed rest when he arrived home. Sirius, Remus and James had to wait in the teacher's lounge, just down the hall. Some time ago, Dumbledore had gone into the hospital wing, but since had not appeared back.

"Do you think he's OK?" Sirius asked, wrapping his arms around himself, in need of some comfort, even if it was from himself.

"I don't know...he was in awful shape when we left...I just hope he's alright." James said.

"Don't start, James." Sirius mumbled.

"What? Start what?" James asked, peering over to Sirius's form on the couch.

"With the father thing...you don't have to pretend." Sirius said, his hands forming tight fists. His voice was low.

Remus looked between the two, and suddenly figured out what was going on.

"That's _enough_, Sirius." Remus said, glaring at him. Sirius acted like he didn't even hear him.

"We all know you don't give a shit about your son, Harry knows it too, that's why he doesn't like you! He knows people, and he knows you aren't worth his time trying to get you to care," Sirius growled.

"I'M HIS FATHER, SIRIUS, NOT YOU!" James bellowed, standing up from his arm chair. Sirius rose to face him.

"I'm more his father than you'll ever be." Sirius didn't yell, he kept his voice to a low growl.

"Stop it, both of you!" Remus yelled, but he hadn't the strength to get up. Both men payed him no attention.

"You couldn't protect him! He had to live with those Dursleys because _you_ got yourself locked up in Azkaban!" James stepped closer to Sirius.

"Don't you _dare _blame me for what happened at that house! I'm the one who rescued him! I saved his life! I CARE ABOUT HIM! I LOVE HIM MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL!" Sirius yelled, pushing James roughly by the shoulders. James pushed him back.

"I died to save him!" James yelled back.

"OH! And look where he ended up because of it! If you had kept me secret-keeper none of this would have happened!" Sirius blinked back tears of frustration and tiredness.

"I did that to protect you!" James said. "Remus told me you started drinking again! How you hurt him! IS THAT HOW YOU CARE FOR HIM?"

"STOP IT!" Remus yelled again.

The door to the teacher's lounge swung open, and a very angry Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway.

"That's _quite enough_." Dumbledore said, moving in between Sirius and James. "You _both _have a responsibility to take care of Harry, and right now I questioning whether you are mature enough to take on such a role." Dumbledore's eyes flashed for a moment. "Right now, Harry is hanging by a thread and here you are, arguing about the past! I'm sure you have woken up quite a large portion of the student body with the two of you bickering in such a way. Now, I suggest you both go down to the hospital wing to see Harry." Dumbledore glared at them for a moment before leaving the room. It was silent for a moment before Remus spoke.

"Will you two kindly assist me to walk to the hospital wing?" Remus asked.

**_a_****_ note from blackenedsoul_**

I know it was a really stupid ending, and a really stupid chapter...the only part I liked about it was the fighting at the end, because it was absolutely crucial to the plot line for it to be there.

A few of you wrote and complained about the picture of me...yes, I know, and I have a new one.

_thanks__ to all who wished me a happy birthday!_

_please__ review, I'll love you forever, and I hope you can forgive me for the lateness. :'(_

_I love you all,_

_-blackenedsoul 3_


	26. Stronger Wings

Long is the way, And hard, That out of hell leads up to light. -Milton.  
  
Chapter summary- Once again, help is needed from the potions master, and Sirius tells Dumbledore exactly what he thinks. Ron and Hermione conspire, and a sleepover is held.  
  
"Hold him down!" Madam Pomfrey yelled, trying to pin a struggling boy's arms down without hurting him further. She and three other men could barely hold down a boy who looked to weigh not a hundred pounds. He had been stripped down to his boxers and socks earlier, revealing every bit of abuse he had been subjected to. He was struggling hard, and Sirius, Moody and James tried to hold him down so the matron could give him a potion to calm him. To simply stun him would be dangerous as it might hit a wound in his thrashing.  
  
Earlier, when he had been out, whilst Poppy Pomfrey was trying to repair Harry's punctured lung, Moody was moving his magical eye around Harry's body, looking for anything suspicious. As Poppy suspected, dragon venom, specifically a Horned Gabbernaw's had somehow made its way into Harry's body. Moody guessed it was on a blade that stabbed him, pushing the venom into his bloodstream.  
  
"It's thickening his blood...making it clot..." She moved her hand to the raised bright blue veins sticking out from his neck. "Not enough blood is reaching his heart." She could finally examine he boy properly when the sleeping potion's effects began.  
  
"Blood thinning potion or blood replenishing potion?" James suggested. He was the one in the room with the least experience in healing magic.  
  
"That will only help for a time...we'll give him blood thinning potions until we find a way to flush the venom out of his system. Severus will come shortly." Poppy informed them, pressing a cool, wet cloth into Harry's forehead, which was beading with sweat.  
  
Sirius was dying on the inside. He had to hold in his panic and worry lest he be shooed from the room again. There was so little he could do for Harry, only be there with him. He wasn't a gifted Healer, or even in healing bruises. He could only brush the hair from his damp face and keep his hands warm.  
  
Sirius turned his face to the winter scene out of the window. The snow on the hills looked like thousands of diamonds, sparkling and shining with the sun's light. This Christmas was supposed to be special...perfect. He knew Harry's Christmases left much to be desired, and this was going to be a time just for them. It was two days until Christmas Eve now. Everything was ruined.  
  
"Sirius? Are you OK?" It was James. Sirius turned to his old best friend's tired face.  
  
"I don't know..." Sirius whispered, as though it could wake Harry up.  
  
Severus Snape strode into the room, arms laden with bottles and beakers. He set them onto an empty bed, rummaging through the twenty something bottles until he found what he was looking for. It was a smaller bottle, filled with a thin, teal liquid. He joined them around Harry's bed.  
  
"This is to slow the spread of the venom. This venom is designed to fuse with the blood to make more poison, this potion," He gestured to the bottle of liquid sloshing in his hand as he shook it slightly. "Is designed to stop that."  
  
Poppy reached into a cabinet to the right of Harry's bed and shuffled through a box on the top shelf, when she brought her hand down it was holding a very small and narrow syringe. Snape took it from her without a thank you, and turned the bottle upside-down and drew the teal liquid into the tube slowly. He set the bottle down once more and found Harry's arm. He flexed it until he found a vein and angled it. Once the syringe was empty, Snape backed away from Harry and set the syringe down.  
  
"I'll leave these here for you, Poppy." He said, pointing to the potions on bed. Poppy nodded once. Snape had begun to leave when Sirius stopped him.  
  
"Snape-," Sirius stopped for a moment to collect himself. "Thank you."  
  
Snape just nodded and left without another word.  
  
"Mr. Black, ("Sirius, please.") I suggest you head home for the night. You're exhausted; I can see it in your face. I'll call you if anything changes. I'm just waiting on another potion from Severus; it'll take a few hours."  
  
"But-,"  
  
"Come on, Sirius. We'll come back." James said. "We have to get Moony home, he needs to rest."  
  
"I can't just leave Harry!" Sirius yelled. "What if he wakes up and I'm not here?"  
  
"I highly doubt that, Mr. Black. He'll be out until midday tomorrow at least." Madam Pomfrey said, lifting her head from concentrating on wrapping Harry's broken ribs tightly. "Go home and have a sleep."  
  
"Come on, Padfoot." James said, grabbing his arm and pulling him. "We can't do anything; we'd just be in the way."  
  
They left the hospital wing, much to Sirius's disappointment and came out into the corridor. They entered Dumbledore's office, where they were told Remus would be.  
  
Remus was sitting in an armchair across from Dumbledore, looking a little ragged, but nevertheless all together. Dumbledore smiled brightly as they entered, Sirius clenched his teeth.  
  
"Sirius, James, come in, come in." Dumbledore said, coming behind them and closing the door. "How is Harry?"  
  
"Oh! He's just fine!" Sirius yelled sarcastically. "He's near death again because of YOUR MISTAKE!" Sirius bellowed so loud he thought his tonsils would burst.  
  
"Sirius, calm down." Remus spoke softly from his position in the chair. "I'm sorry, Albus, he's just upset-,"  
  
"Of course I'm upset! But right now, I can safely say I'm a bit more angry!" Sirius yelled.  
  
"Sirius, this is no one's fault. No one knew Harry could be abducted from the school like that." Remus said.  
  
"It's happened before! Last year he was taken from the school by portkey! I just don't see why you couldn't put two and two together and figure out it could happen again!" Sirius made an angry punching motion in the air and began fisting his hair.  
  
"Sirius, stop." James tried.  
  
"You sit there and pretend that you care about him! You can't care about him if you put him in as much danger as you do!" Sirius yelled, turning over an empty chair next to Remus'.  
  
"I'm sorry, Albus, we'll just be going home now." Remus said, getting up from the chair and stood beside James.  
  
"NO! I'm going home until I've had my say!" Sirius yelled across the room to Dumbledore. His head was bowed, but his face showed no anger or any sign that he wanted to fire back at Sirius.  
  
"Sirius, come on." James said, pulling on his arm.  
  
"No! Why won't you just listen to me?" Sirius yelled desperately at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked up from his desk and to Sirius.  
  
"James, Remus, could you give us just a moment?" he asked. James and Remus looked as if they wanted to say something, but they looked at each other for a moment and then left.  
  
Sirius just stared at Dumbledore for a moment, a moment that contained an eternity within itself. Sirius felt he would go mad if Dumbledore didn't say something -anything- to break the silence.  
  
"You have every reason to be angry with me, Sirius. I understand if you need to shout, or even attack me. Please, by all means, go ahead." When Sirius didn't launch himself at the headmaster, Dumbledore spoke again, his eyes shimmering slightly. "What I do not understand, however, is why you are wasting your time being angry with me when there are more important uses for you. What you need to be doing, and I do not mean to preach, is to work out whatever problem you feel you have with James.  
  
"This boy, your godson, does not need another broken home. He has already spent years with a family that held no love for him. Harry was stuck in the middle of a situation no adult should face at a very young age, the age where love and acceptance is most important. His self at this point is suffering because of his upbringing.  
  
"Sirius, what Harry needs is a home and people who love him. Harry has been given his father back, something he would have never expected. If you continue to fight like this with James, Harry will suffer. He has only had a taste of what family life is, and he doesn't deserve for that to be taken away from him. James will try to have a relationship with Harry, and you are afraid that you will be pushed to the side." Dumbledore paused at the look on Sirius's face.  
  
"James won't try to have any relationship with Harry! He hasn't already! He's completely ignored him, that's what he's done." Sirius said bitterly.  
  
"Sirius, James was unsure of how to be a father to a broken teenage boy-,"  
  
"Harry's not broken. He's not." Sirius said quietly.  
  
"I apologize, I'll correct myself, James was unsure of how to be a father to Harry. He has gone from the father of an infant to the father of a fifteen-year-old boy." Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses on his nose crookedly. "He was unsure of how to act. I think...I think tonight he has realized something. He has been given a taste of parental worry, and it made him realize that he cared for Harry."  
  
"How in the name of Merlin do you know all of this?" Sirius asked, purely exasperated.  
  
"There have been many people come and go from this school during my term as headmaster. I do believe I have learned a thing or two." Dumbledore winked at Sirius.  
  
Sirius hadn't even noticed his anger had begun to wither until it wasn't there at all.  
  
"Now, Sirius, I have only a few more things to say. You love Harry, and that gives you the power to pick up the pieces of his life. You have the power to heal his spirit and give him the wings he can't remember having. Can you heal him, Sirius?"  
  
"Yes," Sirius croaked. His throat was tight and aching.  
  
Dumbledore looked up at him, a smile etched into his face, playing along the contours and lines of his old face. The tears hanging in his eyes surrounded by the crow's feet and laugh lines that held a history of love, sadness and hope.  
  
Dumbledore reached into a drawer and pulled out a small wicker basket. "Acid Pop?"  
  
Sirius chuckled and stood up, thanking Dumbledore (something he previously could not see himself doing) and left the room to meet Remus and James to go home.  
  
"Molly?" Arthur Weasley yelled into the empty hallway that greeted him as he stepped into the Burrow.  
  
"Arthur!" A yell came from the den in answer. Arthur followed the voice of his wife into the den, where he was met with the faces of his wife and children. Ron nearly toppled off his chair at the sight of his father's return.  
  
"DAD! You're home! Harry! What about Harry? Is he alright?" His youngest son exclaimed, standing from his chair.  
  
"Ron, I really don't know. Harry was taken to Poppy before I even got back. I haven't been to Hogwarts yet, we'll go tomorrow, Ron." Arthur said, sounding tired. Molly leapt from her chair.  
  
"Arthur, sit down, I'll fix you a drink." Molly scurried to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, and Arthur sunk down into the open chair, his head falling back and he closed his eyes briefly, until his son spoke again.  
  
"How are you sure he's alright? Dad, please can we go now?" Ron begged.  
  
"Ron, it's two in the morning." Arthur said. Ginny rose to her feet to stand beside her brother.  
  
"Dad! We've been so worried about him; I know no one will sleep tonight anyway." Ginny whined in a half hearted fashion. She tried to look determined, but her glossy, half open eyes seemed to convince her father.  
  
"We'll go first thing tomorrow, but we need to sleep." Arthur said, closing his eyes for a moment. "Molly, can you fix me a pot of tea, please?" Molly stared at her husband for a moment before giving a strained nod.  
  
"Off to bed." Molly said in nearly a whisper.  
  
Ron was surprised to see the defeated look in his mother's eyes. There wasn't a trace of a tear, but the expression that replaced the tears was what scared him most. She looked...like she wanted to give up.  
  
Maybe she does... Maybe in her mind we've already lost. Have we? What happened to the strong people? Why have I only just realized that we're just tired? I'm tired of watching Harry suffer. Watching my mother suffer. My sister and brothers suffer. I know they hurt a lot. I know Harry hurts the most, and that's what makes the pain worse for me.  
  
Ron quickly ran up the stairs after Fred, and went straight to his room. He closed the door to his bedroom tightly behind him, rummaging around his room for a spare quill and ink bottle. He managed to save his last quill from being eaten by his old Monster Book of Monsters, which had apparently broken through its binds and began divesting his room of spare socks. When the book seemed to have calmed down, and began to contentedly chew on a table leg, Ron began a letter to Hermione.  
  
Hermione,  
  
Dad's just come back. He said Harry left with Sirius and Lupin for the infirmary before he could get out. He says he has no idea what condition Harry's in, but I know him well enough to know he's lying. Fred and George are being prats and just sucking it all up, not sticking up for me at all. I think I'm the only one in this bloody family who has any sense or strength left. Maybe Ginny, but she was always like that.  
  
I think you should come back from holiday, Hermione. Dad says we get to go see Harry tomorrow, so maybe you could come. I figured you'd want to see him just as much as me. You're probably blubbering right now.  
  
I guess you've been thinking about Harry a lot, too. I think we need to tell Sirius what we know. Will they be angry we didn't tell before now? Do you think it's our fault Harry's in the state he is?  
  
Hell, I don't even know what state his is in. Maybe he died. What would happen if he died? Everything would change. The entire wizarding world would be in chaos. I don't think I could live through that. I don't think I could stand it.  
  
I can't help but think that Sirius and Remus have been keeping something from us. Something that was troubling Harry. Maybe it's the reason why he ran away that day, and why he keeps disappearing at night.  
  
Write back soon,  
  
-Ron  
  
Hermione put down the letter and frowned. She knew Ron would be suspicious of what was going on with Harry, but she didn't want to be the one to tell him. She knew Ron would be mad if she didn't, and figured he'd find out sooner or later. She began her response.  
  
Ron,  
  
I'm glad they found Harry and brought him back to Hogwarts. I hope he's alright, Ron, I'm really worried. I know you're not the only one in your family with strength left, it's just hard sometimes.  
  
We stayed home this Christmas, so I should be able to be at the Burrow by floo powder tomorrow morning. I hope this letter reaches you by then, I don't know how well Pig deals with frigid temperatures.  
  
If you can think back that far, it was my idea to tell Sirius and Remus about Harry's...habits in the first place. You, Ronald Weasley, are the one who made me promise not to. I do suppose they'll be cross with us for not telling, but that's your fault. Well, not entirely, I went along with it, stupidly, of course.  
  
Please, Ron, don't talk about Harry dying like that. I know nothing would be the same but I just don't want to think about what would happen. I can't prepare for that like I can for an exam or something, as much as I play over it in my mind I could never truly let him go, and I don't think you could either. I know you love him, so do I, and I guess we just don't tell him often enough.  
  
Please don't be angry for what I'm about to tell you. I kept this from you with Harry's best interest in mind. I didn't mean to leave you out of anything, it just happened. I wasn't even supposed to know, it just...slipped I suppose.  
  
Ron, Harry's father is alive. I have never seen him personally, but Harry told me he looks just as he did the day be died. Harry said he doesn't look old enough to be anyone's father, maybe an infant, but that makes sense of course. I know you want an explanation as to why he's alive, but it's a long story and I want to make sure this letter gets to you.  
  
Love,  
  
-Hermione  
  
Hermione sat back in her office chair and considered just balling up the letter and throwing it away. She had to force herself to tie it to Pig's leg, who was very disappointed to have to stop his game of swooping down on Crookshanks without being eaten. She sighed as the tiny owl flew out of sight and was swallowed up by the dark sky.  
  
The glow of the fire cast an orange shade to Remus Lupin's sleeping form. The room was silent save the crackles of the fire. His bed looked much too big against his body, tucked into a loose ball. Footfalls sounded from beyond the door, but Remus didn't wake. As the door to his room inched open slowly, light flooded the room, rising from the floor and onto the walls. A tall figure crept in slowly, and leant over the bed towards the sleeping man.  
  
"Remus?" Sirius said first in a whisper, then louder. "Remus, are you awake?" Nothing happened, so he tried shaking his arms a bit. "Remus, are you awake?" Sirius tried again.  
  
The man groaned and dug himself deeper into the covers. "Sirius, go away."  
  
"Remus, please, I can't sleep." Sirius said helplessly.  
  
Remus opened his eyes and squinted at Sirius's tired face. He sighed.  
  
"How did you get to sleep?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Well, I can't remember now." Remus said, rubbing his eyes. "Come on." Remus peeled back the covers on the other side of the bed, just like he had done when Sirius was staying here after the Triwizard tournament before Harry had come. When he had had nightmares of Azkaban. Sirius's face softened and he climbed into bed next to his friend.  
  
"Everything will look better tomorrow." Remus said, turned to lie on his back.  
  
"I feel like a child." Sirius said, ashamed. He felt a warm hand on his bare arm.  
  
"You just need a friend." Remus smiled slightly, his hand not leaving Sirius's arm.  
  
"It's eating a hole through my stomach, this whole thing." Sirius said, swallowing loudly.  
  
"We haven't heard from Madam Pomfrey, that's good news." Remus said gently.  
  
"It's killing me, it's killing Harry." Sirius's voice cracked. "I just wish it would stop."  
  
"That's why we're all just going to take some time off. We can stay here or we could go to the cabin." Remus said.  
  
"You still have the cabin?"  
  
"Mm," Remus said, his eyes were now closed.  
  
"Harry'd like that."  
  
Minutes passed and the two just floated between consciousness and sleep. Remus had just nodded off when he felt himself being shaken again, and heard a young voice in his ear. "Moony? Are you asleep?"  
  
The Weasleys and Hermione entered the hospital the next morning at around nine, a little behind schedule because Fred and George wanted to bring a few new experiments to 'cheer Harry up', much to Molly's disapproval. The hospital wing that morning was bathed in the winter sunlight filtering in from the grand windows running up the back wall. From the window, you could see the tall trees covered in a thin layer of snow. Even though Christmas Eve was tomorrow, snow had not fallen heavily yet. All the beds in their field of vision seemed to be empty.  
  
"Poppy? Arthur talked to you this morning about possibly seeing Harry." Molly asked the empty room loudly. They heard a clatter of metal and then the sound of heeled shoes on polished floor. A rather rough looking Madam Pomfrey appeared, wiping strands of hair from her forehead.  
  
"Oh, yes, I remember." Poppy said.  
  
"How's Harry doing?" Arthur asked.  
  
"Well, he was awake for a bit this morning, but he was in too much pain, so Dumbledore said to put him out again." Poppy said, leading them across the room. "Sirius and Remus..." She paused for a second, stopping herself from saying 'and James'. "They came here at the crack of dawn. They just look awful. And Sirius, the poor man..." She pulled back the curtain on the last bed, and the first thing they noticed was the black dog asleep at the foot of the bed. "He won't eat...I don't think he's slept at all...Remus took him home last night and brought him back this morning."  
  
Harry was lying very still on the bed, white as the sheets he slept on. All the veins in his neck and arms stuck out and looked black in colour. Hermione had to look away for a moment.  
  
"It's such a shame...it's Christmas Eve tomorrow." Arthur said.  
  
"Oh! Weasleys, I'm glad you're here." Remus said, who came walking in with a glass of water and some toast. He came around to the side of the bed and shook the dog gently. "Come on, Sirius, back into the grumbly old man." The dog lowered its head and leapt from the bed, and transformed back into Sirius.  
  
"Oh, Sirius, you look awful..." Molly said.  
  
"Don't worry about me, Molly." Sirius answered. He just looked sick.  
  
"Come on, Sirius, just try some toast and water, OK?" Remus asked gently, conjuring chairs for everyone.  
  
Ron looked at his friends pale face and swallowed. "So, I guess he won't be coming home for Christmas..."  
  
"Well, Harry's situation is rather complicated...Madam Pomfrey, maybe you should explain." Remus suggested.  
  
"Harry has dragon venom in his blood, and it's making it very thick, and it's clotting, so not enough blood is reaching his heart. He's on blood thinning potions, but those only last temporarily, until Severus finds a way to kill the venom." Poppy explained. "He could be allowed to be home for one day on the potions, but the question is whether it's practical or not."  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, the amount of pain he'd be in, we have no idea. He shouldn't have to suffer, especially on Christmas." Poppy answered. Hermione gave a loud sniffling sound.  
  
"I had so much planned...he was going to love it." Sirius's eyes went back to Harry. His hand grasped Harry's smaller one.  
  
The door to the hospital wing opened once more, and Snape strode in, his usual sneer about his face. In his hand was a vial of mauve liquid, sloshing around as he walked.  
  
"Oh! Severus, is this the one?" Poppy asked, walking to meet him halfway.  
  
"I hope so." They came to the side of the bed. Snape uncorked the vial and it hissed violently, sending steam into the air. "This is another kind of dragon venom, but it's not poisonous. It should burn the other out of his system." Snape said. "This has to be injected, but I think it's best if you wake him up for this one, to see how his body reacts to it. It shouldn't be painful, but more likely it will leave him disoriented."  
  
Poppy pointed her wand at Harry. "Ennervate."  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open. Hermione let out a quiet shriek at his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and sore looking. They seemed out of focus, like he couldn't concentrate on anything. Severus prepared the syringe, and Poppy tied a piece of cloth around his arm above the elbow. His arm was extended and the venom was injected. Harry's eyes fluttered for a second, but he gave no other movement. Sirius squeezed Harry's hand, hoping for some indication that the potion had worked.  
  
The vein that the venom was injected into turned a startling red colour, which stood out even more against Harry's skin than the black had. The red spread across his body quickly, before they seemed to face a little, and become a normal blue.  
  
Poppy gave a shuddering sigh. "Oh...thank goodness."  
  
Harry drew in a shuddering breath and seemed to relax into the bed. Sirius leaned over the bed, still clutching Harry's hand in his own.  
  
"Harry? Can you hear me?" No answer was given, but Sirius sighed in relief. "He squeezed my hand."  
  
"I'll be right back, Sirius." Remus said, slipping from the infirmary and into Madam Pomfrey's office. He locked the door behind him. He turned around to see James sitting in a small armchair.  
  
"What's happening?" James asked. "I've been shut up in here just because Dumbledore doesn't think it's safe for people to know about me." James said bitterly. "I can't even see my son."  
  
"James, I know, I know," Remus mumbled, sitting down beside him and putting his head in his hands. "Listen, I know it's hard, but it's what's best for Harry. Harry's plagued by the media anyways, but once they find out about you, they'll have a field day. The poor boy's had enough of the Daily Prophet's slander."  
  
"They'll find out about me sooner or later!" James argued.  
  
"Yes, but it should be at a time when you're both ready to be swamped by the media. Harry's sick, he's hurt, he can't defend himself right now."  
  
James sighed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "How is he?"  
  
"Snape brought up another kind of dragon venom, it burned away the other. He's pretty out of it, though." Remus said.  
  
"Will he be able to come home for Christmas?" James asked hopefully.  
  
"I haven't cleared it with Poppy yet." Remus sighed. "He'll be home, James. It'll be great, don't worry."  
  
"He can hear you, if you wanted to talk to you, he just can't respond because of the after effects." Poppy explained to Hermione, the twins and Ron.  
  
"He's not in any pain is he?" Hermione asked, grasping Harry's other hand. Sirius smiled at her.  
  
"No, he's just very, very tired." Poppy said, before retreating behind the screen.  
  
Ron sighed. "I can't believe he's back in here again."  
  
"I'll leave you guys alone, I'm going to go and see Remus." Sirius excused himself before getting up. "If anything happens, just call."  
  
"We will, don't worry." Hermione said. They watched Sirius leave and then turned back to Harry.  
  
"Harry, mate, we were going to bring something to cheer you up." Fred said.  
  
"But Mum wouldn't let us out before checking our bags..." George added.  
  
"But since Snape's idea worked, you'll probably be able to go home for Christmas." Ron said. He took hold of Harry's other hand, knowing it was his friend's only means of responding. In answer he received a weak squeeze.  
  
"That will be nice; Christmas at home." Hermione said gently. She still didn't like the way his eyes looked. Though they were no longer red, they were glossy and still out of focus. "I'm going to spend Christmas at the Burrow with the Weasleys. We'll come and see you, OK?" Hermione had begun to cry before she even realized it. Get a grip, get a grip.  
  
"Christmas will be good this year, Harry." Ron said. Harry didn't respond with a squeeze his time, because he had already drifted off to sleep.  
  
On Christmas Eve, Harry's condition had improved greatly. He could move, for the most part. He could talk, though only for a short time and it was slightly slurred. Madam Pomfrey, against her better judgment, allowed Harry to be brought home for Christmas. If it were any other boy, she would have insisted they stay there for at least a week and a half to recover. What made Harry different in her mind was that the thing that Harry didn't need was to be locked up for the holidays. No, that's what she guessed his Christmases were like before Hogwarts. What he needed was time with his family to heal. Not just the cuts and scrapes, but the pain he bottled up inside of himself. She had seen the marks on his arms, there was no avoiding those. Unlike at the beginning of the school year, when there was question to the origin of those marks, this time she was certain and that's what helped her come to her conclusion.  
  
Under Madam Pomfrey's instruction, Sirius wrapped Harry up in three blankets and carried him from the hospital, Remus and James in tow. He peered down into Harry's face, who smiled sleepily at him. He squinted at the brightness of the snow and the light of midday.  
  
"Harry, I love you so much it's sickening." Sirius said, giving the first genuine laugh in weeks. Harry chuckled tiredly, silently thanking his godfather for brightening the mood. His eyes slipped closed, wondering how he ever survived without Sirius.  
  
For I fly on stronger wings Than any that would do you harm.  
  
AN;  
  
As you know, probably, I have been doing some cleaning in the dusty old attic that is my stories list. I absolutely despise abandoned stories, and I felt I shouldn't do that to other people. I have taken down Shoot the Moon and Crimson Tears because I had no desire to complete them, and didn't like the idea of them being stuffed into a metaphorical box and be packed away. No, I decided to let them go. Please don't e- mail me for copies of what I had of these stories, as I no longer have them.  
  
Ha ha ha I get to go and see Evanescence again on Sunday. :P  
  
BTW, for those curious about my pictures, the link's available on my bio page, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd check them out.  
  
Please review, 800th reviewer gets recognition!!! uses every ploy to get you to review 


	27. Tiger

**_TIGER_**, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

xxx;

Tiger/Starseed/Chapter 27/blackenedsoul

xxx;

_Dear Journal, _

_As morbid as it may sound, I spend much more time thinking about death than I do life. Death, to me, is simple. Though I don't know what happens when you die, if there is a God (whatever his name may be), it is simply the end of all living, to cease to exist. It may be like a long, sweet exhale one's been holding for a while, letting go of all the things you've kept inside and all the faults you alone possess. That you can rest, undisturbed, forever. _

_Life, on the other hand, is a complicated web of emotions, situations and hardships. The opposite of death is birth, but is there really an opposite of life? An opposite to feeling and loving and overcoming? _

_I don't think people think about this often enough. Maybe we should stop thinking about death and the unknown, and focus on now, and what we do know. If you spend forever and eternity worrying, is it really living? Are you really able to feel as many things as you're supposed to, when you're overwhelmed by one of the strongest of all? Fear and love. The strongest emotions in human nature. They have the power to fix, and the power to fuck up everything in your life. Everyone says love is complicated, but what is fear? I don't think anyone knows._

_It's Christmas Eve today. Sirius, Remus and James took me home earlier this morning. I'm finding it very hard to write, because I'm still really tired and dizzy, but Madam Pomfrey said that'd pass in a few days. I'm not supposed to move much, because my ribs are too tender, and instead of keeping me closed up in my room for Christmas, Sirius put me on the lumpy couch in the den and put a softening charm on the cushions. I'm right next to the kitchen and the bathroom, so everything's in a close proximity to me. Sirius, Remus and James spend most of their time of the den anyway, so I'm not really by myself. _

_I hate how I have to call my father "James". It feels uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as "Dad". He's been strange lately. We act strangely around each other anyways, but when he and Remus were making pasta (Sirius is completely hopeless in the kitchen) he kept looking at me. There isn't a wall that separates the kitchen from the den, so I could constantly feel his eyes burning onto me, and when I'd look up, he'd avert his eyes like he didn't do anything._

_It seems like I've been away for a long time, like I haven't written in here in ages. It's hard to get back into the habit of writing down everything that's going on. This journal is one of my__ favourite__ possessions. It's second to my photo album and broomstick, but I don't think I could live without it. I don't think Hermione knows what a great gift she gave me. Maybe she thought I'd just write appointments and homework in it, but it's something that anchors me to reality, so I don't get caught up in my nightmares and bad memories. _

_Sirius just told me the Weasleys are coming over for a few hours tonight. I talked with Ron and Hermione for awhile. Sirius told me they came to see me in the hospital wing, but I can't really remember it. I'm pretty nervous about seeing them. I know I still look pretty awful; I caught a glance at myself in the mirror earlier. Sirius had to use a washing charm on my hair, because it was all matted. I still have bruises, so I'll have to wrap myself up with a blanket. I know Hermione would cry._

_-Harry_

xxx;

"Hey, Harry, Want some lunch?"

"Hmm?" Harry said, closing his journal and resting it on his lap. He turned his head slightly to see Sirius leaning in the doorway.

"Lunch, Remus is going to make us some sandwiches, think you can keep them down?" Sirius asked, coming to sit on the love seat adjacent to Harry's couch.

"Yes, I'll be fine." Harry's fingers were tapping on the hard cover of his leather bound book loudly.

"Harry, we have to start talking about some things." Sirius said in a low voice. His I'm-not-kidding tone that Harry knew too well by this point.

"Like what?" Harry didn't want to ask, he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to talk about but the words slipped out regardless.

"Just some stuff, Harry. Whatever you talk about in your journal." Both sets of eyes lowered to the book.

"It's just nonsense in there…" Harry started. "We don't have anything to talk about."

"Yes, we do." _That tone again…_ "We were going to go to Moony's cabin, but it's just too far for you to travel right now. After Christmas, we're going to start talking about some things, setting stuff straight so things start going better around here." Sirius' blue eyes were partially hidden by his long black hair that went down halfway to his elbows and was almost always in his face. This seemed to bother Remus, who believed that with some proper grooming, Sirius wouldn't look so intimidating.

"Things are going fine." Harry said defiantly, not meeting Sirius' eyes this time.

"Harry, I'm not going to argue with you, OK? We'll worry about this after Christmas." Harry knew Sirius had become a bit obsessive over Christmas, and insisted going outside and getting the biggest tree he could find, which was just as tall as the trees that decorated Hogwarts at Christmas. The problem was, Hogwarts' cathedral ceilings were very high, and the ceilings in their small house were definitely much smaller in comparison. When Sirius had dragged the tree inside, the top ten feet of the tree were bent over under the ceiling, tipping at a dangerous angle. They had thought of using a charm on the ceiling to make it a bit taller, but neither James, Sirius nor Remus knew such advanced magic. Sirius had volunteered to try, but Remus quickly declined, hoping to spare the house from further damage.

They ate lunch in the den to keep Harry company, and then started getting to work on making the house clean and decorated for the Weasleys' visit. Sirius wound tinsel around the large tree with his wand, James had been given cleaning duty (declining Sirius's suggestion to wear an apron) and Remus went to work on washing the plates to be used for dinner. Molly had already reserved the duty of preparing the feast, and they planned to eat in the den as to not leave Harry out.

xxx;

They finished setting up at around five in the afternoon, and they house was spotless (or as spotless as three men could make it). Dinner was set for six, and they were still waiting on the Weasleys' arrival and they, themselves had to get ready.

"Harry, how about I help you to your room to get dressed?" Sirius asked, coming up beside the couch.

"I can't make it up all those stairs…" Harry said, feeling useless.

"I know, I'm going to help you, come on, you've been in these pajamas all day." Sirius peeled the blanket off of Harry and grabbed his hand to gently pull him up. When Harry was on his feet, Sirius threw an arm around him and helped him take small steps to the stairs. Harry's feet felt detached from the rest of his body and shook violently every time weight was applied to them.

"Why am I shaking so much?" Harry asked, trying to go a bit faster.

"Take it easy, there you go." He slowed Harry down so he wouldn't trip. "It's just because they were broken and your strength still has to come back." They reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm going to carry you, alright?"

"OK…" Harry felt bad about being embarrassed around Sirius when he was trying to help him. Sirius put an arm under Harry's knees and pulled him up. The pressure on his bruises make him hiss in pain.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Sirius said trying to loosen his arms a little. "I'd levitate you, but I'm afraid the spell would break and you'd fall."

"It's OK, it's not that bad." Harry reassured him, and Sirius continued to carry Harry until they had reached his room. He set him down on the bed and dug through his dresser for clothes. He pulled out a new pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He came over to the bed and asked Harry to put his arms up.

"Sirius, I can do it…" Harry didn't want his godfather to see his arms.

"Harry, it's OK." Sirius grabbed the hem of his shirt in his hands and lifted it off. Harry crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide them. "Harry, Madam Pomfrey told me, I know."

Harry's eyes filled with tears at the thought of everyone knowing.

"It's alright, look, you don't have to show me yet." Sirius pulled the new shirt on, looking away so Harry would feel more comfortable. "Harry…just promise me you won't do this again."

Harry let out a sob and buried his face in his hands, trying to hide, get away.

"Harry, look at me." Sirius took his face in his hands but Harry pulled away, bending his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around himself, becoming as small as possible.

"I can finish dressing by myself, just please leave me alone!" Harry cried, his head never coming up to meet Sirius's face.

"Harry, please…" Sirius begged, trying to get his godson to look at him.

"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry screamed, lifting his tear-soaked face.

"I'll wait outside." Sirius said quietly, holding in his temper for once.

Harry thought about running, but knew he could barely walk. He never wanted anyone to find out and now everyone did. Remus would know, James would know…and worst of all, Snape would know. The aching in his throat and the stinging in his eyes were trying to overpower him, but he wouldn't give in again. He couldn't be anymore weak than he already was.

With a great deal of effort, he finished dressing himself. He knew it had taken a considerable amount of time, but he managed to do it by himself. He chose a long sleeved sweater with cuffs that were snug enough that the sleeves wouldn't fall. He didn't go downstairs, not because he couldn't manage the stairs, but because he didn't want to face Sirius after what happened.

xxx;

"He's not coming down, Sirius." Remus said, sipping on his tea and smoothing the red table cloth in the kitchen.

"He will." Sirius said, fixing his eyes on the stairs once more.

"No, Sirius, you embarrassed him, confronted him about something he wasn't ready to talk about."

"Well, if you think you've got everything _so _under control with him, why don't you go and talk to him?" Sirius challenged. He was tired of always being the one to screw up with Harry, but maybe that was because he was the only one to try to set things straight.

"He isn't just a task that has to be taken care of, Sirius!" Remus yelled across the room to Sirius who leant against the sink. "He's your godson!"

"And he's my son, please, let me just…try to do something." James said.

"And what are you going to do? What have you ever done for him?" Sirius yelled, suddenly angry at James for trying to do something now, when it was possibly too late.

"I DIED TO SAVE HIM!" James bellowed. The kitchen seemed to echo for a moment, and everything was quiet.

"Alright, James, see what you can do." Remus said, eager to separate James and Sirius.

James stood and walked up the stairs in what would be silence, bar the squeaks on every third stair. The wooden stairs desperately needed replacing; they splintered and cracked with every foot placed upon them, threatening to break completely. James hadn't ever paid so much attention to the stairs before, but he was so nervous he needed a distraction. His mouth seemed to have gone numb and he wasn't sure how he was going to talk.

He walked slowly down the hall to Harry's door which was shut tightly. He hesitantly knocked on the door lightly, and when there was no answer, he knocked a bit louder. Still receiving no answer, James turned the copper doorknob and pushed the door open. It was very dark inside for it being only mid afternoon. The drapes were pulled and an almost perfect darkness covered the room.

"_Lumos._" James whispered, stepping into the room fully. Harry's form was under the blankets, his head buried under the pillow. James approached the bed, and was just beginning to wonder if Harry was alright when a hoarse voice came out from under the pillow.

"Go away." It seemed to be a halfhearted statement, as if he had already used up his energy fighting with Sirius.

"No." James said, trying to work out a strategy.

Harry seemed surprised at his voice, and lifted his head from he pillow. "You're not Sirius."

"No, I'm not." James said, trying to sound like he wasn't nervous. He sat down on the edge of the bed, hoping Harry wouldn't tell him to get off. He didn't.

"Why are _you_ here?" Harry spat, narrowing his eyes and building his guard up again. "I don't want to talk about whatever you all feel is wrong with me."

"Then I'll wait." James said, shifting into a more comfortable position. He knew this approach well and just hoped it would work with Harry.

"Wait for what? Me to start spilling everything to you? I don't even know you! Everything was going along fine until _you_ came!" Harry yelled angrily. He didn't even know he felt this way, but it was coming out of his mouth regardless.

James ground his teeth for a moment, trying to keep himself from yelling back. "I've ignored you long enough. I can't pretend I don't care about you, or that I'm not worried about what's happening to you."

"Nothing's happening to me! I don't know why you're all making a big deal out of nothing! I'M FINE!" Harry was gripping his sheets hard in his fingers.

"If you're fine why do you have to hurt yourself?" James asked, keeping to his plan smoothly.

"I don't." Harry said. He appeared much calmer now.

"We know, and there's just no way of denying that now. You've no choice but to start telling the truth." James sat back a little, preparing for another batch of shouting that never came.

When James lifted his head, he saw that Harry had wrapped his arms around himself, burying his face in his knees so he was hidden. His shoulders were shaking in little tremors but no sound came out of him.

"Harry…" James said softly, wanting to hold him, but he didn't know if Harry would accept that.

"No one was supposed to know." Harry's voice cracked and was muffled by his knees.

"Now we can help you." James said, reaching and touching his shoulder lightly, and proceeded to squeeze it comfortingly when he wasn't pushed away.

"I don't want anyone to help me, no one understands _anything_." Harry said, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees.

"I want to understand. I want you to tell me what I can do to help you." His plan was long since deserted. The sad look in his son's eyes as he raised his head from his jeans, wet with tears, had stopped him instantly. This wasn't a game. He couldn't go in and fix the problem only to get out again. This was his son, once his was in, he was staying in.

"I don't know." Harry said, sniffing and wiping his eyes off on his sleeve, only to have more tears come. "I just hate it. I _hate _it. I can't stand everyone thinking I'm so fucking perfect all the time. I hate what's going on in my head, how everything I've ever done wrong keeps replaying over and over. I hate it when everyone who's ever told me they love me has hurt me. I know everyone is sorry for what happened to me, but no one ever tried to get me out! No one ever helped me!" Harry's face was covered in angry tears and his eyes were slightly swollen from crying.

"I'm here, and I'm going to help you now." James said, putting his hand back on Harry's shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was make Harry have a panic attack at unexpected contact, but he knew that he needed comfort, so he used the arm that was on his son's shoulder to pull Harry to him and into his arms in a loose hug. Harry stiffened, not knowing whether this action was okay, but the arms around him felt nice.

"Harry, if your Mum were here, you'd be breaking her heart bottling yourself up like this." James said in the midst of a sigh.

"I'm sorry." Harry sniffed.

"It's alright." James held his son in his arms for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of his body and his boyish smell that reminded him of Sirius when they were younger. He released Harry and smiled at him slightly. "Think it's too late to go down and save Christmas?"

Harry smiled back "Nope."

James helped Harry down the stairs, through the kitchen and into the den, where Harry dropped down onto the couch again.

"It's still another hour or so before the Weasleys get here and I have to go and help Sirius and Remus string the fairy lights outside, think you can amuse yourself?" James asked with a smirk.

"Sure." Harry said, watching him until he left from the font door and then watched him outside through the window across from him in the den. Sirius was up on a ladder and Remus was holding it still.

He lay back on the cushions, and reached across the table for his journal, ink well and quill. He opened the worn leather cover and heard the pine of it crack slightly. He dipped his quill and began to write.

_Dear Journal,_

_It seems like everything today's been happening in super speed and I barely have time to absorb all the stuff that's been happening. One minute I'm hysterical and the next I feel complete. I can still feel my dad's arms around me. They felt strong, like they could crush bones, but they were so loose around me, and I knew it was because he didn't want to upset me._

_I hope this silly thing we had going is over now. I know I've been, as Ron would put it, an immense prat, playing along with it because I'm angry all the time. I just always pick out something that's wrong with my life and stay mad forever and drown myself in all this unnecessary sorrow. I know what I do hurts Sirius, Remus and James…scratch that, my **Dad**. I have to stop being so fucking selfish._

_I'm glad I didn't ruin Christmas. I almost did, mind you, but I think it'll turn out okay once the Weasleys get here. The guys have done a great job decorating, but I think something's still living in the tree Sirius chopped down because the branches bristle every so often._

_I'm still pretty upset they found out about my arms. I'm thankful they don't look as bad as they have in the past, because I haven't cut in what seems like a million years, but all the old scars are still there. They haven't seen my legs or my hips, but I'm sure they'll find out eventually. I just hope Ron and Hermione don't try to say anything. I should probably tell them so they don't. I haven't seen Hermione for awhile either, so it'll be nice to see her. _

_Even in my recent revelation, I still feel the need to cut. It's as if it's a monster in my, clawing at my insides and ripping them until I can't ignore the urge anymore. It's a tiger in a hunting stance, ready to pounce and bring me down. I don't know what could possibly take away this aching urge. My journal was supposed to, but that only delays it temporarily. I just wish it would go away. I wish the memories would go away. If I was the happiest person in the entire world I think I'd still have the urge to cut. Maybe it's in my nature, or maybe I really do need it. I think I'd die if I didn't have my knife in my hand. I should really stop talking about this before I have to cut. I don't want to make Christmas a mess by being miserable because I can't make it up the stairs to my room to get my blade. OK, OK, I'm stopping now._

_Well, the Weasleys are here, so I better be going._

_-Harry_

_xxx;_

**_Tiger, tiger, burning bright _**

**_In the forests of the night, _**

**_What immortal hand or eye _**

**_Could frame thy fearful symmetry? _**

**_Author's Notes._**

**__**

**Sorry if this was a bit on the short side, but I wanted to save the Weasleys for the next chapter. Anyways, news from me! I got my tongue pierced! It's so pretty and I absolutely love it. It didn't really hurt; I just felt the needle go through. When I left I was high on adrenaline so I was giggling and running around to show everyone. I had a lisp for so long, but it's gone now, and I can eat whatever I want now!**

**Tell me what you think about James and Harry's newly forming relationship and tell me what kinds of piercings you all have!!**

**I'm finally going to respond to reviews, so I'm sorry if you had a question before and I didn't get a chance to answer it. **

**Poem is written by William Blake.**

**Thanks to: political blonde, lucky aka tan05, teebee, underground, SiriusWolf, aneedtoslashify, Ocendade, rosiecotten, FroBoy, **

**_Kestral Akelaitis_**: Thanks for the flame, but I also noticed it managed to get into your favourite stories list and I'm also on your watch list. Muhahaha the stalker power! And by the way, it won't end in h/hr, because I have recently come to hate that pairing. I'm all about slash now.

**_Bow to death_**: thank you! Keep on recommending! :P

**_Outematamakin_**: I'm sorry, but it had to be done. I felt as though they were a poor demonstration of the type of writing I can do now, and there didn't seem to be a point in it sticking around.

**_Painted Fire_**: HI! Thanks again for reaching the 800TH REVIEW!!!! 3 muah.

**_sunnysparkles_**: I love new readers! I hope you liked the new chapter.

**_oxpearxo_**: You cry? Yay! Obsession is good with fanfiction :D

**_never ending pain_**: Thank you so much! I love hearing from other cutters that they can relate to what I write.

**_Opal_**: Yes, yes, I know. blushes that was a mistake of mine that I'm going back to fix once I've finished. Thank you and please, continue finding errors in my story.

**_…_**: to ask me how many times I've tried to commit suicide was rather rude. I'm not a sad and depressed person at all, and I've never tried to commit suicide. But I guess you thinking that makes me a pretty good writer. :P

**_angel74_**: unfortunately, most of the interaction between the adults and Harry will be in the next chapter. I needed to use this one to set it all up, etc. I really hope you liked it, as you've been the best reviewer by far for giving me tips and suggestions, so thanks!

**_Hp4ashley2000_**: finally someone notice a positive side to me taking so long to update my story!

**_Athenakitty_**: you made that sound dreadfully like a soap opera, I quite enjoyed it.

Thank you all very much for the reviews, and keep them coming!


	28. Mayonnaise

**_Mayonnaise_**

_Fool enough to almost be it  
Cool enough to not quite see it  
Doomed  
Pick your pockets full of sorrow  
And run away with me tomorrow  
June _

We'll try and ease the pain  
But somehow we'll feel the same  
Well, no one knows  
Where our secrets go

I send a heart to all my dearies  
When your life is so, so dreary  
Dream  
I'm rumored to the straight and narrow  
While the harlots of my perils  
Scream

And I fail  
But when I can, I will  
Try to understand  
That when I can, I will

Mother weep the years I'm missing  
All our time can't be given  
Back  
Shut my mouth and strike the demons  
That cursed you and your reasons  
Out of hand and out of season  
Out of love and out of feeling  
So bad

When I can, I will  
Words defy the plan  
When I can, I will

Fool enough to almost be it  
And cool enough to not quite see it  
And old enough to always feel this  
Always old, I'll always feel this

No more promise no more sorrow  
No longer will I follow  
Can anybody hear me  
I just want to be me  
When I can, I will  
Try to understand  
That when I can, I will

-x-

"Half of the muggle-tree-light-things aren't working-"

"What side of the plates do the forks go?"

"I think something's living in the wreath…"

Sirius, Remus and James were in a panic trying to get everything ready when a loud crash came from the den, causing the old rickety house to shake slightly. When the Weasleys minus Ron and Ginny, stepped into the kitchen, they were met with the sight of Remus tangled in muggle Christmas lights, James wrestling the wreath, and Sirius with his hands full of forks and knives.

"Oh dear…" Molly said, arms laden with food. She set her armful on the counter and began to help Sirius set the table properly. Arthur set to detangling Remus. James gave a started gesture at Fred and George, after re-hanging the wreath.

"Molly, do they know…about me?" James asked, but Fred came up and clapped James on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate, Ron told us." Fred said. George came up behind him, looking deviously curious.

"So what's it like to be dead?"

"GEORGE! YOU WILL NOT TALK TO AN ADULT THAT WAY!" Molly bellowed, shaking a threatening finger at George.

"I'm no _adult._" James said with a grin, eerily similar to the twins'. "Fred and George were just…exercising their boyish curiosity."

"Alright, the turkey should go in for about fifteen more minutes, and the potatoes need to finish cooking. Everything else needs a heating charm while we wait. Fred! Get your finger out of the pie!"

"Fred, George, my good lads, allow me to show you my collection of tricks," he bent his head low and spoke quietly, so that only the twins could hear him. "Ones that I'm sure your mother would not approve of."

Fred and George smirked again as they followed James down the hall to his bedroom. The hall was covered in ripped and peeling wallpaper in a tacky floral print. The wooden floors were graying and slanted, the floor bending at an angle. Fred looked at George excitedly. "I like him."

-x-

"Good to be home, Harry?" Hermione asked, setting her cup of tea back down on the table and turning to look at the boy on the couch.

"Yeah, Sirius and Remus have been going out of their way to keep me company down here. Sirius spent an entire day sitting on the couch with me playing chess. I owe them a lot." Harry said, adjusting himself on the worn couch so he was propped up a bit more.

"Are you still in pain?" Hermione asked worriedly, moving her chair closer.

"Not much, my chest just hurts if I move a lot, but that's why I'm confined to the couch." Harry explained. He didn't like being stuck on the couch all day, it meant that Sirius, Remus or James would have to bring stuff to him, and he didn't like everyone making such a fuss over him when he was fine, just a little sore.

"Are you going to be fit for Quidditch after the hols?" Ron asked. "It'll never do for Ginny to be seeker for you. She's a good player and all, but beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp is better when you're playing." Ron said, laughing along with Harry.

"I don't know if Sirius is going to let me. He's turning into your Mum I think." Harry said. It was true, Sirius was becoming overprotective, which was one of the reason's he was keeping Harry out of school for two weeks after Christmas, which he had yet to tell Ron and Hermione. He didn't want them to think that it was because he was scared to go back, which was part of the reason he was happy to be spending some time at home. He was afraid people would ask him questions, harass him relentlessly or plague him with hushed whispers behind hands in the corridors. He didn't think he could stand that right now, not with everything else going on.

"For your sake, I sincerely hope not." Ron said with a laugh.

"Have you been talking to your Dad?" Hermione asked, casting a glance at the kitchen door. The door was closed but shadows moved across the line of light at the bottom and the sound of muffled voices and footsteps leaked through the crack in the door.

"Well we talked earlier and he kind of…let me vent a bit, and that really helped. I don't know, I just don't want to…"Harry trailed off and lowered his head slightly.

"Trust him?" Hermione offered. "Harry, you can't be afraid to let people in just because you're afraid of getting hurt. Look, you're going to get hurt, everyone does and there's no way of escaping that. But if you never let people get close to you, you're never going to get the love I know you deserve." Hermione said, putting a gentle hand of his shoulder. He smiled slightly at her, believing her reluctantly.

Two hours later the group sat around the dingy living room, their stomachs full with Mrs. Weasley's holiday turkey. Ron had eaten far too much, and had to go lay down on the couch next to Harry for a minute before he could properly function. They had been talking for around a half an hour and the conversations had been slowing down.

"James, do you still have your guitar?" Sirius asked, leaning over to look at James on the other end of the couch.

"Yeah, we found it a few days ago, why? Wait, no, _no._" James said in horror, coming to a conclusion about Sirius's question.

"But James, you must!" Sirius said. "If you don't go get it, I will for you."

"Forget it! I…I forget how to play!" James lied, looking away from Sirius.

"Come on, come on, bring it out then, Sirius." George said, looking over at the older man.

Sirius jumped out of his seat and disappeared into the kitchen and down the hall. They heard crashes and swearing before Sirius finally came back into the room, lugging James's old acoustic guitar case. He placed it down on the ground in front of James and waited…and waited.

"Go on, James, how long has it been?" Remus said, nudging the case closer with his foot.

"Oh, I'd love to hear you play, James dear." Mrs. Weasley said.

James smiled fondly at the case.

"I haven't played since your first birthday, Harry." James said to his son, finally unclasping the clips and opening the case. Dust had settled on the guitar, and James brushed it off with his fingers. He stared at it longingly for a moment before picking it up and resting it on his knee.

"Oh God, I remember the songs you'd sing back at Hogwarts." Remus said, staring at the guitar and remembering so many things at once.

"James! _James! _Sing the one about Snape!"

"Oh God, let me think here…" James pondered for a moment. "Alright, I'll do…An Ode to Snape."

"I remember this one!" Sirius exclaimed, leaning closer.

"Alright." James began to sing.

"_Oh Snivellus, Oh Snivellus_

_Thy ebony hair is greasy._

_Your pimpled nose is tinted brown_

_Animals die when you're around,_

_Oh Snivellus, Oh Snivellus._

_Thy ebony hair is greasy._

_Your hair it moves like an ocean wave,_

_Instead of love it was herpes you gave_

_Oh Snivellus, Oh Snivellus._

_Thy ebony hair is greasy._

_Your breath really reeks of tuna fish_

_For you to bathe is my only wish._

_Oh Snivellus, Oh Snivellus,_

_Thy ebony hair is greasy_." James finished with a final, dramatic strum of the guitar strings. Sirius was laughing hysterically, Remus smirking nostalgically and the twins rolling with laughter on the floor. Ron and Harry too were laughing, but Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were tutting with disapproval.

"James, mate, you have to write that one down for us." Fred said, finally collecting himself.

James winked back at the twins.

-x-

"Sirius, do you mind if we go upstairs to talk for a bit?" Harry asked after another hour of talking with the Weasleys about their plans for the New Year.

"Harry, I really don't think-," Sirius started, but was cut off by Ron hastily.

"_Please _Sirius? I'll help him up the stairs, I promise not to push him." Ron said with a cheeky grin. Sirius thought for a moment but was nudged sharply in the ribs by Lupin.

"Go on, Harry, Sirius is just being ridiculously overprotective." He smiled at Harry warmly. Ron helped Harry up and started for the stairs, Hermione behind them.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley yelled shrilly from the couch. "Don't forget your sister!"

"_Mum,_ please! All Ginny's been talking about is that _boyfriend _of hers." Ron whined, sending a glare at Ginny.

"His name is _Gregory._" Ginny corrected coldly.

"Either way, he's still Ravenclaw trash." Ron said and Ginny launched herself off of the rug and at her brother. Ron nearly dropped Harry but as he swayed backwards, Hermione caught him with slight difficulty and straightened him.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY! DO NOT ATTACK YOUR BROTHER! RONALD! WE DO NOT BITE!"

James hid his laughter behind his wine glass while Sirius just let out his bark-like laughter. Mrs. Weasley finally separated the two and sent Ron up the stairs with Hermione and Harry, deciding to keep Ginny downstairs for awhile.

Hermione was grateful when Ron caught up with them on the stairs and helped her get Harry up the stairs. While Harry couldn't weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds, it was hard to keep him standing whilst keeping herself from falling down the stairs with him. Ron took Harry's other arm and they climbed up the twisted stairs together.

They reached Harry's bedroom and he dropped clumsily onto the bed, laughing until he righted himself, sitting up against the headboard. The designs carved into the wood dug into his back uncomfortably, but he didn't really care. He had decided the day he was captured that if he lived he wanted to set everything straight. He didn't want to keep secrets anymore, especially when everyone was trying so hard to keep him sane- keep him _alive_. He wouldn't get anywhere if he kept this up; he wanted to get better, to move past this all.

Ron had sunk unceremoniously into his armchair and Hermione sat cross-legged on the rug. They sat in silence for a moment, they didn't move or speak. The only movement in the room was the Chudley Cannons posters Ron had given him. Harry lit the kerosene lamp beside his bed so he could see his friends better. When the flame came to life, Harry could see their faces, they looked uncomfortable. Harry sighed.

"Look, I want to talk to you guys about a few things, things that I've wanted to tell you for a long time. I know you learned parts of the truth from Sirius or Remus or Mrs. Weasley, but I wanted you to know everything, straight from me." Harry said. Hermione looked anxious, as she did while waiting for test results. This time, however, she looked concerned and worried. Ron looked confused, maybe he thought that he was aware of everything going on in his best friend's life. He readjusted himself in the armchair.

"Go ahead, Harry. You can tell us anything." Hermione said comfortingly.

"Snape's not your dad, is he?" Ron asked with fake concern. Harry was more grateful for Ron then he ever had been before. He was able to lighten a mood in any situation. Harry laughed despite the biting nervousness inside him.

"No, thank god." Harry answered, still grinning. Hermione looked at Ron reprovingly.

"Ron, you're not helping." She said sternly.

"It's okay, Hermione." Harry said, before settling himself back into his anxiousness. He took let out a calming breath and began. "There're a lot of things you don't know about what happened to me at the Dursleys'. I know when you…when you found me…I-It was when _he _shot me. Sirius told you that I had been beaten by m-my uncle ever since I was little, but I was keeping something a secret until a few months ago. It was when Dumbledore had scheduled for Sirius, Remus my Dad and I to get together and talk that I finally told them." He paused for a moment, collecting himself again.

"It's okay, we're here; we're listening." Hermione said, scooting closer and taking his hand.

"Go on, mate."

"I just felt so lost. I had this weight inside me and I was sinking lower with the strength of it. It would replay over and over and I didn't know how to stop it. I-I didn't know how to deal with it. When we were there and we were talking. Dad told me that Mum might have been pregnant when she died, which stunned me completely. I know it took a lot out of him to tell me everything he did that night, and I felt that I needed to get everything out as well, which I did. I-I…told them about when I was younger and…" He felt so embarrassed, but tried to hide it. His fringe came down in front of his face so they wouldn't see him, so Ron wouldn't see him if he cried. "And…my uncle used to touch me." He was shaking; he was so scared they were going to call him weak.

_Why didn't you stop him? What's the matter with you? You're such a freak, Harry!_

"D-do you…understand what I'm telling you? It's okay if…if you don't want to see me anymore." He didn't know if Ron would understand what he was taking about, but his expression had turned to shock and horror.

"He…_molested _you?" Hermione said, having trouble saying the word itself.

Harry bit his lip hard and nodded.

"_Fuck_…" Ron said angrily grabbing a fistful of his red hair.

"Oh, Harry, when we caught you…hurting yourself, I went to the library, but they didn't have anything, so I got my mother to send me a few books and I told her it was for a healing course. It said most people who harm themselves have suffered sexual abuse but I didn't want to believe anything that horrible could happen to you, _never_."

"Harry, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me in first year? You could have been out of there sooner!" Ron exclaimed disbelievingly.

"I was scared." Harry whispered from behind his hair. He only lifted his head when he heard a choked sob from Hermione. "Don't cry, _please_." Harry said desperately. Hermione only sobbed harder so Harry looked to Ron for help. Ron didn't meet his eye, he just sat silently.

"Ron?" Harry asked quietly. Ron didn't look at him, but he spoke with a shaky voice.

"I didn't understand why you were so upset all the time. I would get so frustrated with you, _mad _at you. I wanted you to snap out of it and go back to the way you were before last summer. When I caught you cutting yourself, I thought you were so stupid. I hated you, I wanted you to stop being so selfish; hurting yourself while everyone was trying to help you. Harry- _I_ was being selfish. I wanted you back for _me. _I was lonely without you. I miss you being _happy_."

"I'm trying now, I swear I am." Harry promised, looking with sad eyes down at Ron.

Hermione shot up so suddenly it made Harry nearly toppled off the bed with surprise. She flung her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Her bushy hair obstructed his view of Ron. For a moment he thought his best friend had left the room completely until strong arms wrapped around him from beside Hermione. When Harry broke free, Hermione went back to sitting on the floor, wiping the tears from her face with her sleeve.

"Mate, nothing like that will ever happen to you again." Ron said, still sitting beside Harry. Ron's eyes conveyed his seriousness, and for once, held no note of silliness or a joke hiding beneath the surface. When Harry looked into Ron's eyes he trusted him without one wavering thought and for once, he felt safe.

He told Ron about why he had owled Ron to come and get him that night. He told him how scared he was of Sirius and how he needed to go somewhere he felt protected. He told him and Hermione about Sirius's alcohol problem, how they had to put all of Remus's brandy down the drain, his mood swings and how angry he was so awhile. After that they drifted into silence.

"I need your help with something." Harry said suddenly coming to a conclusion. Ron and Hermione looked at him expectantly.

"Sure, what is it?" Hermione asked, her face no longer holding tracks of tears.

"Down in the kitchen." Harry said.

"Ugh, you mean I have to practically carry you again?" Ron said, returning to his usual demeanor.

"Uh huh, but I need something out of the closet first." Harry said, slowly getting off the bed limping slowly and dropped to his knees in front of his closet, digging through the pile of junk on the floor. He finally pulled out a small chest, about the size of a shoebox. He then went over to his bedside table, opened the drawer and pulled out a key. He turned to Ron and Hermione, who looked confused.

"Hermione, in my trunk, there's a little pocket in the side." Harry told her. She crossed the room and sat in front of his trunk and felt around the sides until she found a small pocket. She reached in and pulled out a small dagger.

"That's what Sirius gave you for Christmas, right?" Ron asked.

"Bring it here, Hermione." Harry said, but Hermione hesitated.

"Harry, I really don't think I should." Hermione said, looking at the dagger, clutching it close to her chest.

"No, it's okay, trust me." Harry said calmly.

Hermione handed him the blade reluctantly, but stayed close, prepared to rip it out of his hands if she had to.

Harry sat for a moment, just holding it in his hands feeling the cold metal and the smooth feeling of the wooden hilt. He held it for only a few seconds before he dropped it into the chest.

"Now the bathroom." Harry said. Ron still looked a bit confused but got up and he and Hermione helped Harry to the bathroom.

Harry opened the cabinet doors above the sink and took out the bottle of pain-killing potion and tuned it over.

Hermione was watching from the doorway and was very surprised when Harry pulled a razor blade off the bottom of the potion, a piece of glass underneath the sink and scissors from behind the mirror. They all seemed to be stuck with Droobles Best Blowing Gum. Hermione had no idea he had had to get so creative with his attempts at hiding his tools for hurting himself. Hermione then began to understand.

"You're locking everything up?" Hermione asked. Harry finished putting the scissors in the chest and then turned to her and Ron.

"I've had enough. I'm tired of hiding and I'm tired of going nowhere. If I want to get better, I have to stop this right now." Harry said picking up the box once again. "Now the kitchen."

"Is that the last place?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to take all the knives out of the drawer." Harry said, allowing Ron to help him down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He could hear the adults in the den and could see them through the doorway. They were talking excitedly and laughing. Hermione signaled for them to be quiet as they took all the steak knives out of the cutlery drawer. The silver make clinking noises as they hit each other, and Harry swore under his breath as he heard someone entering the kitchen. He turned around to face his godfather.

"What are you kids doing in here? Harry, what are you doing with those knives?" Sirius exclaimed, noticing the sharp objects in Harry's hands. He crossed the kitchen quickly and grabbed them from Harry's hands.

"Please Sirius, you don't understand!" Hermione said, trying to reason with him.

"Hermione, I don't know what he has tricked you into believing-," Sirius was cut off by Ron.

"Sirius if you would just shut up for one second Harry could tell you what he's trying to do!" Ron yelled. Sirius was silent as Harry came forward, snatched the knives from Sirius' hands and dropped them into the chest and locked it. He turned to Sirius and gave him the key.

Sirius took it in shock and just stared at the little key in his hand. He looked up at Harry after a few moments.

"Oh, Harry…" Sirius said, putting the key into his pocket and pulling Harry into a tight embrace. He held Harry in his arms and just let absolute relief wash over him. When Harry pulled back Sirius held him at arms length and looked into his eyes. They were more clear and green then he ever remembered them being and he smiled at his godson warmly, laughing in the midst of a sob.

Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door then, her husband beside her. "Ron, Hermione, come on now, it's nearly midnight. Sirius, are you alright?" She asked, noticing the tears collecting in Sirius' eyes.

"I'm just fine, Molly, thank you." Sirius said, and helped Harry to the front door to say goodbye to his friends.

"We'll see you around New Year's mate, but we'll write to you, okay?" Ron said, pulling on his Gryffindor scarf and wrapped it around his neck once. Harry nodded in response.

"Make sure to write about all your presents, Harry!" Hermione said, stepping out the door with a final wave, Ginny beside her.

"James, it was a pleasure, good sir." Fred said, shaking the older man's hand.

"Charmed." George added, shaking James's hand after his brother.

"Anytime, boys." James said and waved them off as well.

"Oh Remus, thank you so much for having us, the house is fixing up nicely, you're doing a lovely job." Mrs. Weasley said, glancing about the retiled and repainted kitchen.

"No problem, Molly, come back anytime." Remus said, hugged her and kissed her cheek and went to thank Arthur.

"Sirius, your stories about your Hogwarts days, although rude, were very entertaining." Mrs. Weasley said, laughing warmly as she hugged him tightly.

"And James, I had no idea you were such a musician." She hugged him as well, gave one final wave, and left with her husband, the cool night air biting at her plump cheeks.

-x-

"That went well, don't you think?" Remus asked, collapsing into his armchair and sighing loudly.

"Very well, I think." James said from his position on the couch. "Tired yet, Harry?"

"Not at all." Harry said, pausing before he spoke again. "What are you going to do with the key, Sirius?"

"It's safe with me, don't worry, Harry." Sirius said, patting his pocket securely.

"What key?" James asked, looking at Sirius's pocket curiously.

Sirius looked at Harry for permission to tell them about the chest, but Harry began for him, telling them about his secret hiding places and how everything was locked away now. He explained to them the rules which they would have to follow in order to make this work. If they needed a knife or their shavers, they had to get the key from Sirius, retrieve what they wanted, lock the chest and put it back when they finished and lock the box again. Only after they were all confident in Harry's progress could the knives be returned to the drawer.

Remus took in everything Harry was telling him, sitting quietly in the armchair. When Harry finished, he rose and took Harry in his arms gently, speaking into his shoulder softly.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry. You're doing it, you're finally doing it. You have no idea how proud I am of you." Remus whispered.

"I just...I'm ready to move on now." Harry said when Remus released him from his arms.

James came next and placed his calloused hands on Harry's shoulders, looking into his son's eyes.

"Harry, I'm amazed at how far you've come in such a short time. You're so strong, Harry. You're so much like your mother in spirit, and that's what I love most about you." James's brown eyes glittered with the light of the lamp on the coffee table. They looked so warm and familiar, so distant and yet they were right there. He could barely comprehend, even after months that this man, the one he longed to see for so long, was here. He smiled at the mention of his mother, but he couldn't ignore the constricted feeling in his chest. He wished she was here too, so she could see how much her son wanted her to be a part of everything. He wanted more than anything to wake up and see her beautiful oval face grinning at him.

"Thanks, Dad." Harry said quietly, not trusting his voice to go much louder without breaking.

-x-

"Dad, where are we going?" Harry asked, being pulled through forest, twigs and branches were whipping at him and he held his hands out in front of his face to stop getting scratched. James had said he wanted to talk to Harry alone for a bit, and then proceeded to pull him quickly- a little too quickly on his worm body- through the thin layer of forest. They ran for five minutes until they came to a clearing and James abruptly stopped, causing Harry to nearly fall over. The air was cold and the wind was biting at his arms and face.

"What are we doing out here?" Harry asked, looking around. He had been here before during the summer. He hoped they wouldn't be gone long or Sirius would be furious with both of them.

"I'm going to teach you something. This is a…therapy technique that I used while I was at school. I think this might be put to good use if I teach you." James said.

"Therapy technique?" Harry was confused, why did they have to come out here?

"Of course, you can't expect me to stay sane when I shared a dormitory with Sirius for seven years." James said.

"Was it that bad?" Harry asked, faking concern.

"Oh, the horrors I have seen." James winked. "Now, this isn't that hard, but in order for it to work, you have to put in a bit of effort. I don't know how great of a teacher I am, the only other person I showed this to was your mother."

"Okay." Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

"Now, what you have to do is kind of brace yourself, I've fallen over plenty of times." James parted his legs and bent them so he was firmly planted. Harry was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Now for it to work, it has to come from deep inside, where you kind of…shove everything down." James said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Ready?" James asked.

"Sure." Harry said, taking a few steps back, not knowing what to expect.

James stood for a moment and then suddenly let out the loudest yell Harry had ever heard. The earth below him shook for a moment, and then stilled as James panted with exertion.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"That, Harry, was the secret of my sanity, my therapy technique, screaming." James said, slowing his breathing down. "Try it."

"I really don't think-," Harry started but James waved his hard dismissively.

"Come on, you can't get out of this one." James said. "Brace yourself."

Harry obediently squatted slightly until he felt he was secure on the ground. He was embarrassed now.

"Reach deep inside and just let it out."

Harry stood for a moment and then said "_Ahhh_."

"Come on, Harry, what was _that_?" James said, laughing slightly.

"I don't know!"

"Make it as loud as you need it to be, but I know it has to be louder than that." James said.

Harry sighed and thought of everything, everything he had burrowed deep inside, pushed down to deal with later. His uncle screaming at him, making his ears hurt. His aunt staying in bed for weeks at a time. Sirius grabbing his arm roughly, the stale, fiery smell of alcohol coming off of him. Cedric Diggory falling to the ground, his skin cooling, his eyes fixed and blank. Vernon throwing him against the stairs, his head hitting the wrought iron railing making an echoing noise. Vernon giving him a bath when he was seven, his hands disappearing under the soapy water, as tears leaked from Harry's young eyes.

A loud scream escaped his throat. His legs shook with the effort, the sound bouncing off of the trees and disappearing into the night sky.

"Harry, I want you to come out here and do that whenever you feel like things are getting to be too much." James said, touching Harry's shoulder and they walked back to the house slowly.

-x-

"Have a nice chat?" Remus asked, grinning from the kitchen. He seemed to know what they were doing.

"James! You were gone for fifteen minutes! I went to the porch but no one was there! You have no consideration!" Sirius yelled.

"Sirius, they're back now, you can calm down." Remus said, chuckling as he finished loading dishes back into the cupboards, his wand directing them.

Sirius took a few deep breaths and spoke in a low voice. "Alright, I'm calm."

"Harry, lets go and get you into bed, you look exhausted." Remus said, looking at the boy. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and he wasn't shivering, but goose bumps covered his partly bare arms. Harry nodded and allowed himself to be helped up the stairs, through the hall and into his bedroom. Sirius pulled back the covers and Harry climbed in, pulling the blankets over himself. He settled back into the pillows and already his eyes were half closed.

"Goodnight, Harry." Remus said, and Sirius went to turn off the light but Harry's voice stopped him.

"Can I write in my journal for a bit? I won't be up late." Harry asked, pulling the leather-bound book out from under his pillow.

"Alright," Sirius said.

"I'll come back in ten minutes to turn the light off, okay? I don't want you getting up." James said. Harry nodded and watched the three adults leave the room, closing the door behind them. Harry opened the drawer in his bedside table and took out his ink well and quill. He dipped his quill, tapped it a bit on the side and began writing.

_Dear Journal,_

_I think this is the first time I've gone to sleep without worrying about something. Worrying about how much longer I could keep everything brushed under the rug to be more specific. I have fallen, I know, but I fell with no trace to lie permanently. I can lift myself up and dust myself off and make this all a memory. Put this all in the past and call this a rough spot, something that nearly killed me several times, but nonetheless, a rough spot. _

_What Dad showed me tonight helped a lot. It's nothing like my knife, but it released everything. Now I don't feel anything but how tired I am. My body wants to rest but I don't want this day to end, I want to keep going, keep healing, and keep living. I've been in a place where I felt hopeless, scared and alienated. I was there for so long and now that I've taken even the smallest step away from that I feel like living as much of it as possible. _

_I feel clear, like water. It's like before whatever I told myself was on an old radio, decaying sound, breaking up. I look back at all these pages, some barely legible, smudged with tears, angry scribbles and it's breaking a bit from all the times I've thrown it against the wall. I was getting lost in those pages, drowning in my own words of sorrow. My eyes were sewn shut to any hope, my face blackened by my own bitterness. I think sometimes things have to go terribly wrong for things, at one point or another, to become terribly right. Learning from mistakes is crucial to growing up, and I've made plenty of mistakes to learn from. I was living each day as if I were already dead. I didn't expect to make it much longer, anyways._

_When I was at the Dursleys, I thought maybe I could stay alive if I were perfect, just how they wanted me to be. If I were like Dudley or maybe if I were just something that simply existed: didn't breathe or move or speak, they would love me. I realize now, why would I kiss the hand that fed me scraps? _

_For the longest time I believed what **he **said. I believed I was a freak and deserved nothing more than what he gave me. My ears bled when he whispered nightmares in my ears, things I could barely understand. That part of my life has passed. I've blown out the candle and I watch the wax harden, feeling a release from the hands grasping my throat. _

_I will not be broken, though I am the one that bleeds._

_-Harry_

James came into the room five minutes later and found Harry sitting up in bed, his journal closed. He looked up when his father came in, putting the book on his bedside table.

"Ready for bed?" James asked, taking his wand out of his back pocket to flick the kerosene lamp off.

"Yeah, I'm really tired." Harry said, adjusting himself in bed so he was lying down.

"You've had a long day, I'm not surprised." James said, moving forwards, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, touching the blanket with the tips of his fingers feeling the raised stitches.

"Thanks." Harry said, his eyes beginning to close. The blankets were so warm; he didn't ever want to move.

"For what?" James asked, brushing his hair behind his ear.

"For being here."

James smiled warmly at him, and seemed to tell him everything would be alright.

-x-

_**Author's Final Note. **_

_Well, that's the certain, absolute and utter end of my little story. I didn't want to tell you all that it was ending, because everyone does that, and that's a little boring, isn't it? I hope this chapter has done the rest of the story justice, and that you liked it. I don't want to disappoint you. I know this story has tipped on the edge of abandonment many times, but I managed to keep going and I've seen it through. The reason updating was dawdling and infuriating was because I wanted to make sure I didn't leave anything open or unfinished. I had to tie off all the ends of everything and set it all straight, and this was the best I could do. _

_There won't be any sequel, one shot add-on or anything of the sort. I will be coming back with more stories, many, many more. I'm currently working on a slash story called **Monster **which should be out before or just after the New Year (I've started writing ahead of time now). _

_This story means more to me than any of the paintings covering my walls, any of my poems or scribbles. I've been able to recover from my self injury addiction through this story. I've tried rubber bands, the locked box (as demonstrated in the story), but nothing worked for me but writing it all out. It wasn't easy and I must say, I've been through moods where I've been an absolute bitch, but now I've gone back to my usual subdued self. Everything you guys have said, words of encouragement, flames (though ugly, have helped me to learn how to deal with nasty criticism) have helped me grow up in a way no school could teach me. I thank you from the bottom of my ragged heart. _

_I would like to thank certain people of the fanfiction community who have helped me in their own way. _

_Painted Fire- Thank you for chatting with me when I've been lonely, for amusing me about life in America and for every word of encouragement you've given me. _

_Savoy Truffle- I read back and realized I had said something nasty about your story and yet you still reviewed mine. I'M SORRY. Thank you for sticking around while I was a bitch._

_angel74- thank you thank you thank you. Words cannot express how much I appreciate your kind words and suggestions. Thank you for writing wonderful stories that have inspired me so. _

_The following people for being faithful reviewers: FroBoy, athenakitty, xopearxo, SiriusWolf, HPfreakout, Adenara Yatman, Siri Kat and so on, sorry if I missed you, but you're still on the review boards, I know who you are. _

_If you miss me and want to talk to me, my emails are listed in my bio page; I'd love to hear from you. All of those in Florida will be pleased to know it's been snowing like a bitch as well. _

_Well, I'd like to close with a few words of wisdom. Wisdom isn't usually associated with someone of fifteen, but I'd rather not wait until I'm sixty to be proclaimed wise. _

_For all those suffering with self injury, _

_Don't let anyone tell you you're worthless. You can sit in your bedroom, listen to your depressing music, or whatever kids listen to these days, and try to cut the pain away, but in the end you're just turning yourself into what you fear the most. Cutting is a warning sign of a deeper problem, something that you don't know how to deal with. I promise you you'll find a way to eventually, you just have to believe that there's hope. Recovery isn't easy and even if you cave, you're not a coward or a failure; you just need to keep truckin' homie. _

_Ha ha ha. _

_-blackenedsoul_


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